“Sounds like a real storm, Sandy.”
“Yes, and do you realize what this could mean?”
“Well, I guess it could mean anything—that is, if it got bad enough.”
“Oh, I don’t mean sinking or anything like that. I mean it could keep us from reaching Buffalo in time.”
“Oh,” Jerry said, in a small, glum voice, and for a time neither youth spoke. Then they heard a rattling at their door.
It opened, and the unfriendly face of Mr. Briggs peeped in. The two youths leaped to their feet.
“Stay where you are!” the mate snapped. “You ain’t going anywheres.” He grunted, pushing the door back and securing it against the bulkhead. “Skipper says he wants your door open. Can’t say as I agree with him, but he’s the skipper.”
“Can we go out?” Sandy asked.
“No.”
“How about some food?” Jerry queried, rubbing his stomach.