Scood grinned, and began to slacken the sheet, for the wind kept coming in sharper puffs, and at every blast the boat heeled over to such an extent that Max felt certain that they must fill.
“You haul in that sheet, Scood, and let’s get all we can out of her.”
“Nay, nay, laddie, she won’t bear any more. We ought to shorten ta sail.”
“No,” cried Kenneth; “I want to see how soon we can get home. Why, it’s ever so much past six now. We shan’t be back till late. Don’t want to see the Black Cavern, do you, to-night?”
“Oh no!” cried Max eagerly.
“We could row right in ever so far with the tide like this.”
Max shuddered. It was bad enough in the open sea; the idea of rowing into a black cavern after what he had gone through horrified him.
“All right, then. Make that sheet fast, Scood, and trim the boat. I’ll make her skim this time.”
“No,” said Scood decisively. “Too much wind. She’ll hold ta sheet.”
“You do as I tell you, or I’ll pitch you overboard.”