This last brief exclamation was made in a tone of some concern.
"What is it?" asked Peggy. "Am I trimming wrong?"
"Right as a trivet! but—have you ever heard of a williwaw, Peggy?"
"It's a squall, isn't it? Captain Slocum tells about them in 'Sailing Alone Round the World.'"
"That's it! Well, I think we are going to get one. If you will take the helm again for a moment, I'll take in a reef."
Peggy took the tiller in her strong little brown hand, and looked on admiringly while Phil reefed the sail with creditable swiftness. Soon all was tight, and the two young people watched with cheerful interest the coming on of the squall.
On it came, a line of white on the water, a gray curtain of driving rain above it. The wind began to sing in the rigging of the sailboat; next moment she heeled heavily over, and sped along with her lee rail under water.
"I'd sit pretty well up to windward if I were you," shouted Phil. "You'll be dryest on the gunwale, if you don't mind!"
As Peggy seated herself with alacrity on the gunwale, Phil looked at her with approval. Her eyes were shining, her whole rosy face alight with happy excitement.
"Now, that's the kind of girl I like to see!" said this young gentleman, forgetting that he had been seeing three of the same kind ever since he could remember; but sisters are different!