“There will be no sudden squall, Mr. Jenkins. These summer tempests don’t come up like that. The lightning is far off yet and, anyway, we can’t get any steerage way on her until we get some wind.”
This appeared to satisfy the young men and they left Hoppy to his cogitations.
When half an hour had passed, Dunton came on deck. He was evidently ill at ease and could not remain below. His eye caught the gleaming shafts of lightning to the westward and he knew that the tempest predicted by the pilot would be a furious one.
“The wind still seems to be shy, Mayo?”
“Oh, it’s coming, all right, Mr. Dunton, but you won’t feel it for another hour. The lightning still hugs the horizon.”
“It will mean a night on deck for all hands. I think you had better turn in for a rest, Mayo; I shall want you when the storm strikes us.”
“Very good, sir, and thank you for your consideration.”
In accordance with Raggett’s orders Hoppy’s berth was in the cabin with the officers. Dunton dared not object to this though he didn’t like the idea of having the prisoner established in his quarters.
Hoppy went below but he did not turn in. Sleep was not in his program that night. Making sure that he was unobserved, he made a cautious but thorough search of the cabin, paying particular attention to Dunton’s berth. In the midst of his investigations he heard Dunton calling for him to come on deck and he knew by the trampling of feet above him that the longed-for breeze had come. With a smile he obeyed the commander’s call.
There was bustle everywhere on deck. Dunton was shouting orders and while some of the men were getting the anchor aboard others were busy at the sails. A crash of thunder greeted the pilot’s appearance on the scene. Though the breeze was still gentle, it was gathering strength every moment and soon the schooner would feel its full force.