"Dere's plenty tam," grumbled Mosey Louis, who hated to leave the fish. "None of de oder boats is goin' in yit."
The squall struck the boat as he spoke. She lurched and staggered. The water was tossing choppily. There was a sudden commotion all through the fleet and sails went rapidly up. Mosey Louis turned pale and scrambled about without delay. Benjamin was halfway to the shore before the sail went up in the Murray boat.
"Don' know what dey're tinkin' of," growled Mosey Louis. "Dey'll be drown fust ting!"
Benjamin looked back anxiously. Every boat was making for the shore. The gale was steadily increasing. He had his doubts about making a landing himself, and Braithwaite would be twenty minutes later.
"But it isn't my lookout," he muttered.
Benjamin had landed and was hauling up his boat when Mr. Murray came running down the road.
"Frank?" he gasped. "Him and Leon went out, the foolish boys! They neither of them know anything about a time like this."
"I guess they'll be all right," said Benjamin reassuringly. "They were late starting. They may find it rather hard to land."
The other boats had all got in with more or less difficulty. The Murray boat alone was out. Men came scurrying along the shore in frightened groups of two and three.
The boat came swiftly in before the wind. Mr. Murray was half beside himself.