"Well, so near as I could make out, you were headin' toward China," Andy answered soothingly. "What was it you were looking for?"
But before Fred could make an answer it became apparent that they were in for another siege like the first.
Another gust of wind, equally sand-laden, appeared over the brow of the hill. This time the four lads turned their backs to the approaching gale. As they did so, and just before it enveloped them, they saw the first cloud pass out to sea. So, also, did something else.
Big Jack was perhaps the first to see it, though each caught just a fleeting glimpse before the second miniature hurricane wrapped itself about them.
All started as though by instinct back toward the shore. But they could not see a thing for several seconds, until the cloud of dust, traveling even faster than they were, got ahead of them and lifted upward over the water.
What they saw then was disconcerting, startling.
The big hydro-plane which had brought them from America to Europe, and which, in their happiness and enthusiasm at having safely arrived on European soil, they had utterly forgotten to anchor, evidently thinking that like the old farm house it would "stand without hitching", was in the full teeth of the wind, headed back toward the land of its birth!
The involuntary exclamation that escaped Big Jack as a burst of speed put him in the lead of the others, was like the cry of a savage chief, rallying his followers for the hunt. And it had just that effect upon the others.
Nothing else counted just now but getting back that sea-wandering plane. It was not a calculated or reasoned or thought-out proceeding, but a blind rushing after something that had gotten away—as, for instance, one will risk all sorts of dangers in unthinkingly rushing into the street and amidst traffic after a hat that has blown away.
As Big Jack reached the edge of the water, only a few feet ahead of the other three, he did not even diminish his speed, but with a great splash waded in, followed by the others.