"That's more than I can tell. In these troughs among the hills, it either blows straight up or directly down, and I dare say we'll find it different when we reach the sound. One thing's certain—there's some weight in it now."
Vane nodded agreement, though an idea that troubled him crept into his mind.
"I understand that the steamboat skipper will run in to land some Siwash he's bringing down. It will be awkward in the dark if the wind's on-shore."
Carroll made no comment, and they drove on. As they swept around the point, the sloop, slanting sharply, dipped her lee rail in the froth. Ahead of them the inlet was flecked with white, and the wail of the swaying firs came off from the shadowy beach and mingled with the gurgling of the water.
"We'll have to tie down a reef and get the canoe on board," suggested Carroll.
"Here, take the tiller a minute!"
Scrambling forward Vane rapped on the cabin slide and then flung it back. Mrs. Marvin lay upon the leeward locker with a blanket thrown over her and with the little girl at her feet; Miss Blake sat on the weather side with a book in her hand.
"We're going to take some sail off the boat," he explained. "You needn't be disturbed by the noise."
"When do you expect to meet the steamer?" Miss Blake inquired.
"Not for two or three hours, anyway."