“I’m trying to keep her headed with the waves; that’s all I can do.”
“I know it. I think the squall’s letting up some though.”
“Perhaps it is,” agreed John. “It does seem a little bit lighter.”
“It isn’t raining so hard either,” observed Grant. “These squalls stop just as quickly as they start sometimes.”
“The lake must be deep here,” said Fred. “How long is that anchor chain?”
“About fifteen feet I guess,” said John.
“That ought to keep us from going ashore anyway,” exclaimed Fred. “Who said this storm was over?”
“It must be coming back,” said Grant. “It certainly let up for awhile though.”
“But it’s making up for it now all right,” observed George. “I’m so glad I took all that trouble to get my clothes dry.”
The four boys looked at one another and could not help laughing. Every one of them was drenched through to the skin and no one had a dry stitch of clothes on. The rain pelted them mercilessly and the water ran off their faces in streams. All huddled together, they made a forlorn looking party.