“It will be for the boss if he don’t get to work in a hurry,” Josh flung across the watery space that separated the boats.
“Don’t worry on my account,” laughed Herb. “I’ve got a mortgage on the balance in the fryingpan, and he’d better not touch it on his life.”
“Think the bally old storm is over, Jack?” asked Nick, presently.
“The worst of it is, and I believe the wind seems to be dying down a little,” came the ready reply, as Jack swept the heavens with anxious eyes.
“I thought that last gust came out a little more toward the west,” remarked one of the others.
“I’d hate to know that,” Jack said. “For old sailors say that when the wind backs up into the west, after being in the north, without going all the way around, it means a return of the storm, from another quarter.”
“Time enough to get ashore yet!” muttered Josh.
“Go ahead, if you want to,” George said grimly. “Take some grub along, if you make up your mind that way. But I don’t stir out of this boat unless I’m thrown out. Understand that?”
An hour later, and Jack saw that his worst fears were realized.
“Wind’s getting around fast now, fellows,” he announced.