Part 13 (1/2)

”Yes, there is!” Brad corrected, bringing the sailboat closer into the wind. ”Listen!”

The two boys distinctly could hear the putt-putt-putt of a gasoline engine. For a minute they could not localize the sound. Then, from the far shoulder of the island, they saw a flat gasoline-propelled raft scooting across the river.

”That looks like Jabowski,” Dan observed. ”And he's heading straight toward the motorboat! Can we get closer, Brad?”

”Unless the breeze s.h.i.+fts it will take us two or three tacks to come even with the island.”

”And by that time, there may be nothing to see,” Dan grumbled. ”I sure wish we had a pair of binoculars!”

Dividing their attention between pressing more speed out of their own craft, and watching the raft, the boys begrudged the time it took to make the long tack.

The raft, they noted, moved directly to the waiting motorboat. What transpired at the meeting place, they were unable to see.

So intent were the Cubs on watching the boat and raft, that they paid scant heed to the low c.u.mulus clouds which had gathered close to the horizon.

Black underneath and hard-edged, they were moving up fast from the leeward!

The Cubs, however, were elated because a stiffening breeze rapidly bore them toward Skeleton Island. Now they could discern two men aboard the motorboat. Though they could not see the face of the man on the raft, they were convinced he was Jabowski.

”What do you figure they're doing?” Dan speculated. ”And who are those men that have Mr. Manheim's speedboat?”

”Maybe it isn't his,” Brad replied. ”I'd say it's the same length and make though.”

Apparently observing the approach of the sailboat, the raft began to pull away from the motor craft.

At that same moment, a dead calm fell upon the river. Startled, Brad raised his eye to the sail which had been drawing well. Now it had slumped into listless, discouraged folds.

”Just our luck!” Dan muttered in disgust. ”The breeze plays out!”

”It's worse than that,” Brad said, thoroughly alarmed. ”We're in the calm that precedes a bad thunderstorm!”

Both the sky and the water had taken on a dark cast. Although not a breath of air stirred, heavy waves pounded against the drifting boat.

”Gosh, we're a long ways from sh.o.r.e too!” Dan said in dismay. ”Skeleton Island is the closest point of land. Think we can make it before the storm breaks?”

”Not a chance,” Brad muttered. ”She's coming now!”

Across the water they could see a misty sheet of water descending.

”There will be wind in a minute! Plenty of it! Dan! Help me get the sail down before it strikes us.”

Working with all speed, the boys lowered the sail from the mast. Before they could furl it, the wind struck, throwing the boat far over on its side.

Dan's Cub cap was lifted from his head, and carried far down river. For a moment it floated on the surface, and then slowly sank out of sight.

Dan scrambled to fasten down all other loose objects. Rain now was coming down in a torrent. Unable to see many feet ahead of them, the boys lost sight of the raft and the motorboat. For a time they could hear the chug-chug of the raft's engine, and then all sound except the howl of the wind died away.

”This is awful!” Dan exclaimed as a vivid streak of lightning cut across the dark sky. ”Let's strike for Skeleton Island. We can find shelter there, at least.”