“Well, help me get this tent down first,” remonstrated Herb. “We don’t want to be caught by a storm with these things up, you know.”
“But it might rain?” Nick protested.
“Let it. We’ve got oilskins; and perhaps there’ll be plenty of time left to get into the same. Take hold there.”
Herb was right; and the crews of all the little motor boats had already started to stow away the big covers. Jack kept things as snug as possible aboard the Tramp, in case of a downpour; and that was not at all the thing he feared most.
They were within fifty feet of cruel looking rocks. If the wind broke out from any quarter that would send the big billows churning against that barrier, the fate of the motor boat fleet could be easily guessed.
In a little while everything had been done that seemed possible; after which they could only sit there, and await whatever was to be handed out to them.
Nick and Josh were plainly nervous; and even Jimmie showed some signs of apprehension, nor could they be blamed for this timidity.
“What if one of the boats is swept away?” suggested Josh; who, being in the narrow-beam Wireless understood that he had much less chance for safety than those who manned the other craft.
“No danger of that happening,” Jack replied, quickly. “The only thing we have to fear is being smashed up against these rocks. Our boats would cave in like puff balls.”
“That’s what,” Josh went on. “Perhaps fellows, we ought to go ashore in the dinkies while we have the chance. Even if we lost the boats we’d save our lives. And I promised my folk at home I wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks, you know.”