But Minnie was not as free with her bright talk as was her wont, and Frank was disturbed over it. In fact, Minnie mentioned the name of Fred Cunningham during the conversation a little oftener than Frank thought was necessary.
During a fifteen minute run the girls had forgotten about the cloud, but now it was making itself evident. A stiff little breeze gusted across the boat.
“We’re going to get caught in a rain!” those in front cried as a few drops of water fell.
Frank, who had paid no attention to the change in the weather in his deep thought about Minnie’s change toward him, now took a look at things.
“This is going to be a stiff little rain. We’re nearest to this island. Let’s land and get in that hut. It will keep off the rain.”
He changed the course of the Rocket slightly, for they were approaching an island in midstream. The rain was peppering down a little more as they made the landing, and, while Frank tied the boat, the girls dashed for the shelter of the rickety looking hut which stood at the edge of the shore, a great elm tree spreading out to reach it but not quite doing so.
But it did them little good. As the storm broke in full intensity, the water poured through the roof as if there were none there. The girls huddled together in one corner, but even that did them little good. The rain came in a perfect sheet. Ten minutes of this and their dresses were soaked.
“I think you should have used a great deal more care about this,” Minnie said to Frank coldly. “It surely is not a very nice thing to bring your friends out and then get them soaked in this manner. I don’t appreciate it a bit.”
There was nothing for Frank to say. He had just succeeded in widening the breach a little more, though certainly he had intended no such thing.