Frank and Andy Afloat | Page 6

Captain Trent," replied Andy.
"Better not," was the quick advice.
"Why?" Frank wanted to know.
"It's coming on to blow, and it's going to blow hard. Hear that wind?" and the captain, whose son Bob was quite a chum of the Racer boys, inclined his grizzled head toward the quarter whence the breeze came.
"Oh, that's only a cat's paw," declared Andy.
"You'll find it'll turn out to be a reg'lar tomcat 'fore you're through with it," predicted the old salt. "But what happened to your boat, Andy? I see you've got a hole stove in her. Did you run on the rocks?"
"No, something ran into us," replied Frank quickly. "Don't say anything to him about the whale," he remarked to his brother in a low voice.
"What's that about a sail?" demanded the captain, catching some of Frank's words.
"We're going for a sail," spoke Andy quickly. "Come on, Frank."
"Better not!" again cautioned Captain Trent. But our heroes were no different from other boys, and did not heed the warning. Had they done so perhaps this story would not have been written, for the events following their sail that day were unusual, and had a far-reaching effect.
"Come on!" called Andy sharply to his brother, as he saw the captain making ready to start a discussion about the weather. Mr. Trent might also ask more questions about the damaged boat, and neither Andy nor his brother wanted to answer--just yet.
Five minutes later saw the two brothers sailing away from the pier. The breeze was getting stronger every moment, until the rail of their trim boat was under water part of the time.
"Say, it is blowing!" declared Frank.
"Oh, what of it? The Gull can stand more than this. Besides we're safe in the harbor, and we may soon sight the whale. Keep a good lookout!"
For some time they sailed on, each one scanning the expanse of the bay, which was now dotted here and there with whitecaps. The boat was heeling over almost too much for comfort.
"Hadn't we better turn back?" asked Frank, after a period of silence, broken only by the swish of the water.
"Of course not," declared the more daring Andy. "It was about here that my boat was stove in. The whale may be around these diggings looking for us."
"Likely--not!" exclaimed Frank decidedly.
There came a fiercer gust of wind, and it fairly howled through the rigging. The waters whitened with spray and foam.
"It's a squall!" yelled Frank. "Better turn back."
"We can't now," shouted Andy at the top of his voice, to make himself heard above the howling of the wind. "We'd better keep on to Seabright. We can lay over there until this blows by. See anything of the whale?"
"No. It's useless to look for him. I'm going to take a reef in the sail."
"That's right. I guess you'd better shorten some of our canvas. I'll hold her as steady as I can while you're doing it. Or shall I lash the helm and help you?"
"No, you stay there. I can manage it."
The storm increased in sudden fury, and it was no easy task to shorten sail with the pressure of the wind on it. But Frank Racer had considerable skill in handling boats, and with his brother at the helm, to ease off when he gave the word, he managed to cast off the throat and peak lines, lower the gaff and sail, and then take a double reef in the canvas.
Even under the smaller spread the Gull shot along over the foam-crested waves like some speeding motor boat. Andy was so taken up with watching his brother, and in aiding him as much as he could by shifting the helm as was needful, that he did not look ahead for several minutes. He was recalled to this necessary duty by a sudden, frightened cry from Frank.
"The rocks! Look out for the rocks!" shouted the older lad. "We'll be on 'em in a second! Port your helm! Port!"
Andy desperately threw over the tiller, and with fear-blanched face he looked to where his brother pointed. Amid a smother of white foam, almost dead ahead and scarcely two cable lengths away there showed the black and jagged points of rocks, known locally as the "Shark's Teeth." The Gull was headed straight for them.
Anxiously, and with strained eyes, the brothers looked to see if their boat would answer her rudder. For a moment or two she hung in the balance, the howling wind driving her nearer the rocks, to strike upon which meant sure destruction in the now boiling sea.
Then, with a feeling of relief, Andy saw that they were sheering off, but very slowly. Could they make it? They were near to death, for no one--not even the strongest swimmer--could live long unaided in that boiling sea that would pound him upon the sharp rocks.
Suddenly Frank