When the "Dart" reached the end of the passageway, the lights of the village could be seen, apparently so distant that Tom uttered an exclamation.
"Crickets, think of all that water to be crossed!" he groaned.
"Seems a lot because it's dark," put in Havens. "The 'Dart' isn't so fast, but she'll make it in no time, with this breeze."
As they rounded the shore of Hemlock Island, a pouring rain began to beat in their faces, and almost every instant hissing, foaming water dashed over the gunwale. Once outside its friendly shelter, the "Dart" began to pitch and toss in an alarming manner.
Suddenly, a furious blast heeled her far over and she shivered from stem to stern.
A chorus of excited exclamations rose above the whistling wind.
"Get the bucket, somebody!" yelled Havens. "Bale her out, quick!"
Bob Somers, reaching forward, was tumbled to his knees in the water that swished forth and back with every movement of the boat.
But he got the bucket. Dick seized another, and both set vigorously to work.
"Don't let up, fellows," commanded Havens. "Here's another big one. Hold on tight!"