But situations on the water which brought in a fair remuneration were scarce in the vicinity of Westville, and so the boy did not attempt a search for employment in that direction.
The half-day's job before him suited him exactly, and, after leaving Martinton, he settled back with his hand on the tiller and his eyes on the sails in great satisfaction.
"I wouldn't mind owning a boat like this," he thought, as the swift little craft cut along through the water. "Perhaps I might do very well taking out pleasure parties during the summer."
Inside of half an hour Martinton was left far behind. Then Ralph noted that the fair sky was gradually becoming overcast.
"I wonder if we are going to have a blow," he soliloquized. "It more than half looks like it."
About quarter of an hour later the breeze died out utterly. This was a bad sign, and the boy prudently lowered the jib and took a couple of reefs in the mainsail.
Presently came a low rumble of thunder from the southeast, and the sky grew darker and darker. There was no longer any doubt that a severe thunderstorm, preceded possibly by a squall, was close at hand.
Unwilling to take any risks in a boat not his own, Ralph lowered the mainsail entirely. Hardly had he done so when a fierce wind swept up the lake—a wind that presently raised itself almost to a hurricane.
The lightning began to flash all around him, followed by crash after crash of thunder. The water was churned up in great violence, and he was compelled to crouch low in the craft lest he be swept overboard and drowned.
Driven by the wind, the boat moved across the lake, until Ralph grew fearful that she would be driven up on the rocks and made a complete wreck. At the risk of losing some canvas, he let out the mainsail a bit and steered from the shore.