“I thought this was coming!” he muttered. “Ain’t that corn on my foot been aching cruel enough?” Cap’n Crumbie never breathed to a living soul the source of his remarkable weather prophecies, but that corn had served him faithfully, if irritatingly, for years.
Suddenly he spun around and shot a glance across in the direction of the Point, remembering that the Sea-Lark had gone out beyond the breakwater. He was wondering whether or not she had returned.
“By Jiminy, they’re out yet!” he spluttered, showing distinct signs of perturbation, and screwing up his weather-beaten face as he peered out beyond Gull Island. He could see nothing of the little sloop, however, and took several sharp turns, first nor’east and then so’west, on his regular beat. But his movements were not so slow and measured as usual. There was agitation written all over him. Each time he turned he gazed out to sea afresh, and each time, seeing nothing of the sloop, he grunted.
“By Jiminy!” he exclaimed again, after a while; and then, as a sharp gust of wind almost lifted his cap off his head, “By Jiminy!”
As a matter of fact, Cap’n Crumbie was very seriously upset. He had every faith in the lads’ ability to handle their craft, even if something more than a capful of wind came along, provided it was not too squally. But there was the distinct promise, now, of something more than mere squalls. And if Jack was far out he would have a hard fight to beat his way back against this wind.
Cap’n Crumbie stumped his way to and fro for another five minutes and then, snorting impatiently, walked along the wharf to Messrs. Garnett and Sayer’s office. There he picked up the telephone receiver and spoke to the man on duty at the light on the Point.
“This is Cap’n Crumbie,” he said. “Who’s that?... Joe? ’Morning, Joe.... I just rung you up to ask if you can see anything o’ the ferry-boat. Them two kids went out fishing in her early.... Saw them go, eh? Well, ain’t they on their way back?” There was a pause, while the watchman listened irritably to the voice over the wire. Then, “All right, Joe. Ring us up at the office, will you, as soon as you sight ’em?”
The man at the light had reported that there was nothing afloat as far as he could see. With growing impatience the watchman returned to the end of the wharf, where he now found Martin and Hegan.
“I don’t see the sloop around,” observed Hegan, casually.