“Not a word. It’s no time for me to talk.”
The cloud which had been rising in the west meantime began to increase and spread, and the sound of distant thunder was heard. The captain of the yacht looked pale and troubled as he said:
“It’s going to be a regular cyclone. I wish we were in the inlet.”
All the party began to betray signs of uneasiness, when there came a little ripple over the sea. The captain did not dare run with full sail, but he took in several reefs and shortened his jib sail, and the boat moved away like a thing of life toward the inlet.
Ike had been to sea a great deal and had met with considerable experience and he said:
“Captain, you’re wrong.”
“How so?”
“You will just get in the inlet when the storm strikes us, and we will be blown on to a bar, and then it’s all up—it’s sink or swim.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Reef her down to a pigeon wing and let her run before the wind. It’s your only chance.”