This solicitude for the Puffin took Craddock completely by surprise.
"She's all right," he protested. "There's no wind and the sea's calm."
"All right so far," corrected the other. "You jolly well ought to know better than that. A windless rain is invariably followed by a very hard blow. Look at the glass—fallen three-tenths since it was last set. That's enough warning. What possessed you to cast off the warps?"
"Cast off the warps?" repeated Craddock. "I didn't. That was your work."
"Rot!" commented the stranger. "But explanations can come later. Time's precious. Get that engine running as sharp as you can. We may be too late as it is."
Meekly Peter dived into the motor-room. Since the other fellow was top-dog at present, it would be wise to humour him. In any case it was worth trying to get the yacht afloat, especially as there was a strong possibility of a gale springing up.
"She's ready," announced Craddock, emerging from the engine-room. "I'll have to start her up from the cockpit."
"Good!" ejaculated the stranger. "There's a reversing propeller, I hope?"
"Reverse gear," corrected Peter.
The pair went on deck. It had ceased to rain. Overhead the stars were shining brightly, but away to the south'ard a bank of dark clouds with jagged edges betokened the approach of the predicted storm.