“You bet!” said Chub heartily. “And he’s a dandy swimmer.”
“Let’s go and look at the camp,” Roy suggested presently. “We might as well know the worst.”
So they went, and half way up the beach the sun came forth with a sudden dazzling burst of splendor, lighting the tossing waves and glinting the windows of the school buildings across on the slope of the hill. Evidences of the storm were plentiful. Broken branches strewed the edge of the wood and the beach grass was flattened down. When they left the beach and came in sight of the camp they gave a shout of surprise and delight. The tent was just as they had left it. Inside, however, things were pretty wet.
“Don’t see how we can sleep here to-night,” said Roy, feeling the bedding. But Chub was gazing ruefully at his bag which had been left open. He took it outside and spread the contents in the sunlight, such of them as would not blow away. The contents of the larder were in pretty good shape, since ’most everything was kept in tin boxes or pails. Suddenly Chub uttered an exclamation and ran to the beach. Then he gave a sigh of relief. For once the canoe had been left in the cove instead of on Inner Beach, and the worst that the storm had been able to do was to hurl it up against the bank, where, save for a few deep scratches, Chub found it undamaged. The Pup was pretty filled with water and had dragged her anchor until she had buried her nose in the sand. The rowboat, which had been left on Inner Beach, had utterly disappeared.
“I guess it’s joined Billy’s cat-boat,” said Chub. “Maybe we’ll find it, though.”
They spread the bedding and such of their clothing as had got wet out of doors, and trudged back to the Jolly Roger, Roy remarking on the way that there wouldn’t be much difficulty now in finding firewood. It was after five o’clock by this time. They found Billy, wrapped in a blanket, sitting in a chair in the sitting-room. He had just started his account of the afternoon’s adventures as they came in.
“I had been up the river a couple of miles on business,” Billy was saying. “When I got back to my boat I noticed some clouds over in the west but didn’t think much about them. I’d gone about half a mile or so, with almost no wind, when I saw that I was in for a squall. I turned and headed for the shore, but the squall struck before I was half way there and so suddenly that I had only started to drop the sail. The Minerva went over like a ninepin. I thought she’d float on her side; thought the sail would keep her up; but the canvas must have dropped as she went over, for she just stuck her mast straight down, and the best thing I could find to lay hold of was the center-board. It wasn’t so bad for a while, and I thought we’d be driven ashore about a mile up here. But the current got us then and the waves began breaking right over me. I was just about half drowned in five minutes. I remember seeing the end of the island come abreast of me, and after that I guess I didn’t know anything. Of course, I’m eternally grateful to you, Mr. Cole; I can’t begin to thank you enough. I guess I’d have let go in another minute or so; and I never cared much for drowning. Besides, there’s a rather important matter to be settled up before I leave.”
“Well, all’s well that ends well,” said the artist heartily. “Now I’ll go and see what there is in the kitchen for five hungry men.”
“Oh, we’re not going to stay to supper,” Dick protested.
But Mr. Cole contradicted him flatly.