"There they are!" yelled an excited voice at Bob's elbow.
It was Sam Randall, who had pushed his way forward.
Off to the right and seen but dimly through the driving rain, a barely perceptible shadow was visible on the foaming surface.
"Trim boat, boys," Bob called. "Get over to windward, all of you! I'm going to swing her around."
The boys clustered on the weather rail, but exposed to the full force of the howling blast, the "Rambler" nevertheless keeled far over, every wave and blast of wind threatening to send her occupants into the angry waters of the lake.
[CHAPTER XII]
IN DANGER
Mr. Somers' wisdom in selecting a boat with breadth of beam was now apparent. Had the "Rambler" been a narrow craft, the task which confronted the members of the club would have been attended with the gravest danger.
Several of the boys, clutching for support, felt a thrill of apprehension run through them, as the storm-tossed motor boat, which shipped water at every lurch, ploughed its way toward the Trailers.