Presently as the wind increased and it was evident that a storm was coming up, the three men moved away, and soon after that the boys saw Leif Olesen go down the companionway, evidently bent on retiring.
“Hello! what are you fellows doing on deck?”
The greeting came from Nat Brooks. The mate had been called up by the man in charge of the wheel, he having given orders to that effect should the blow increase.
“It was too hot below for us,” answered Randy. “We thought we’d come up and cool off a bit.”
“Well, you be careful you don’t blow overboard.”
“Looks like a storm to me,” put in Andy.
“Yes, I think we’re going to be up against some dirty weather,” answered the mate. “However, I think the Firefly will pull through all right enough. She’s one of the most substantial craft I ever sailed on.”
The boys remained on deck a half hour longer and then, growing more sleepy than ever, went below and turned in. By this time the storm was on the yacht and from the southward came streaks of lightning followed by long rolls of thunder.
“Gee, how the thunder does roll on the ocean!” was Randy’s remark, as his head hit the pillow.
“I don’t care, let it thunder. I’m going to sleep,” answered his twin. “The air is changing and it’s much cooler.”