The sky, which during the day had been nearly free of clouds, was now entirely overcast with dark rapidly moving banks of mist, and the wind had increased from a light breeze to a strong blow which came in fitful gusts.
“We’re jest barely holdin’ our own,” declared Cap’n Seth, who again joined them. “If she gits any stronger we’ll begin to drift. Ought ter had better sense than ter start out when my rheumatics kept tellin’ me that a storm was a comin’. Them ere rheumatics are better nor a barometer for ter tell when a storm’s a comin’. Never knew ’em ter tell a lie yet,” and he slowly shook his head as he glanced up at the sky.
Even as he spoke the first drop of the coming storm began to beat against their faces, and in less than five minutes the rain was coming down in earnest.
“Me for the engine room,” Bob shouted, as he left the stern and made his way forward followed by Jack and the captain.
“Givin’ her all ye got, Reds?” the latter asked, as he reached the open door of the engine room.
“Sure an’ I am thot,” Reds replied, glancing at the steam gage. “Faith an’ she’s pullin’ fer all she’s worth.”
“Gee, listen to that wind,” Jack said a little later, from his perch on the coal bin. “I’ll be a fig we’re not holding our own now,” he added, as he jumped down. “Come on Bob, let’s put on these rubber coats and go out and see what’s doing.”
Outside in the stern of the boat they found the captain and the rest of the men watching the big raft as it heaved and groaned in the heavy sea.
“We’ll hit Sugar Island in another ten minutes,” he shouted, as he caught sight of the boys.
The rain was now falling in torrents and the wind was roaring in furious blasts which shook the little steamer in all her timbers. Darkness was falling rapidly, although it was still light enough for them to see the island now only a few rods astern. Already the captain was loosening the hawser preparatory to casting it off as soon as the raft should strike.