"There's a dreadful storm coming up," announced Lulu, suddenly glancing up at the cloudless blue sky, and beginning to wave her arms frantically. "We shall be drowned, I know we shall. Make the boat rock as much as you can, Betty, so it will seem as if the sea was getting rough. Oh, what will become of us? Do you think we shall all perish, sailor?"
"Can't say; hope not," said Betty, who had an idea that all sailors spoke in short, jerky sentences.
"You'll save us if you possibly can, won't you?" said Winifred, who was playing so hard that she was almost frightened.
"Will if I can," returned Betty in the deepest growl she could assume.
"Oh, Lulu, please let us see a sail pretty soon," urged Jack. "I'm getting so tired of keeping my eyes shut, and it seems so dreadfully real."
"There aren't any oars, and we're drifting."—Page 159.
"Oh, yes, we shall see one before long," said Lulu reassuringly. "It'll come just at the last awful moment; it always does in books."
At that moment a sudden burst of sunshine dazzled all their eyes.