THE STORM.
As Ned had foreseen, a storm was brewing. It was one of those sudden
summer storms that come up almost without warning and rage furiously
over the Sound. The big thunder heads rolled up rapidly till the entire
sky was overcast.
Saki was sitting on the stern seat. Ned, with a gleam of satisfaction,
saw that the Jap looked frightened. Indeed the weather promised to be
bad enough to alarm even an experienced sailor, which Saki surely was
not.
Under the dark clouds the sky was shot with an angry, lurid, copper
color. The sea had turned leaden and began to heave suddenly. Still
Kenworth, driven by his hatred of Ned, kept on.
It appeared that he hardly cared what became of himself or his
companion, so that he could have his revenge upon Ned. As a matter of
fact, Kenworth by no means liked the looks of the weather himself. But
it would have been unsafe to remain ashore with Ned, as neither the
midshipman nor Saki knew with whom he had been conversing during his
brief liberty. For all they could tell, although it did not appear
probable, an ambush might have been laid for them. Therefore, they had
decided to cruise about till it grew dark.
Ned, for his part, determined to say nothing more. He sat on a midship
seat, the handcuffs on his wrists, watching the coming storm.
The wind began to moan in an eerie sort of way. It sounded like the
actual voice of the coming tempest. The sea began to whip up into white
caps. Suddenly the black storm curtain was ripped and rent from top to
bottom by a jagged streak of livid lightning.
Saki turned a sort of pasty green. His knees almost knocked together.
The motor boat was a narrow-waisted, wasp-like craft, and did not
appear to be suited for heavy weather.
"Maybe so we better go back," suggested the Jap in a shaky voice. He
glanced apprehensively at the mighty canopy of the storm overhead.
Kenworth turned on him almost savagely.
"We'll go back when I get good and ready," he said. "I want to see how
much this white-livered braggart can stand. Yes, I mean you, Strong."
There was a sweeping blast of wind. It was followed by a blinding flash
and then a roar like the rumble of a million celestial chariot wheels.
The Jap hid his face while the lightning seared and streaked the sky as
if an egg had been spattered to smithereens on a blackboard. The very
air smelled sulphurous.
"I--I guess we'll go back," said Kenworth.
Just then a wave struck the side of the bow and reared its white crest
high above the tossing craft. Saki sprang to his feet as the salt
water came dousing down in a regular cloudburst. It drenched Kenworth
to the skin and tore from the Jap a frightened shout.
"Hope you like it," grinned Ned, the only collected person on the
boat. The dark frenzy of Kenworth's mad passion had passed and now he
saw with panic-stricken eyes the danger they were in. The wind was
howling furiously and the waves were piling up on every side. It seemed
impossible that the lightly built craft could live much longer in the
tumult of waters.
Saki was in a panic of fear. Crouched on the bottom of the boat, his
yellow face looked, in the glare of the almost incessant lightning,
like some hideous war-mask of the old Samurai.
Ned gazed about him. The outlook was bad, very bad. And then there
were those handcuffs. If only he could get them off. He addressed the
terrified Saki.
[Illustration: "You drop that wheel, and we'll all go to Davy Jones!"
shouted Ned.--_Page 155_]
"Here, you, take these handcuffs off. At once, do you hear me?"
He felt no fear of the groveling wretch at his feet. He even emphasized
his remarks by a threatening gesture of his foot.
"Oh! Oh! Honorable Saki much frightened!" wailed the Jap.
"You contemptible yellow cur," snapped Ned, "brace up! Do you hear me?
Come now, quick, the key."
The Jap actually managed to struggle to his feet and produce the key.
Kenworth saw what he was doing.
"Stop that!" he yelled, and began to let go of the wheel. A shout from
Ned brought him to his senses.
"You drop that wheel, and we'll all go to Davy Jones!" shouted Ned.
Kenworth gripped the spokes again. If ever fear was written on a face,
it was on his. The thought of the death that was so near paralyzed
him. Perhaps he thought of that other storm off the Cuban coast when
Ned had brought them safely aboard through a wilder sea than this.
The Jap's teeth chattered as he unfastened the handcuffs and Ned jerked
his hands free.
"Now hand over that gun. Quick, now," snapped out Ned.
The Jap was so terrified that he would have done anything he was told.
With hands that shook, he handed over the pistol. Ned took possession
of it with grim satisfaction.
The chance that he had hoped against hope might come had arrived. He
was on even terms with his foes. But would that fact do him any good?
The storm was raging so furiously that Ned, with all his optimism,
could not hope that the motor craft would live through it.
The only thing to be done, as he saw it, was to run for the lee of a
point of land some distance off. If they could reach this in safety,
they might have a chance. If not, and the storm continued to increase
in violence, there was hardly one chance in a thousand for them.
The angry lightning hissed and crackled and the thunder boomed with
ear-splitting clamor as Ned made his way forward to Kenworth's side.
When he arrived there, he seized the other by the shoulder and shouted
in his ear.
"Steer for that point yonder! It's the only chance we've got."
Kenworth, in his fear forgetting everything but the instinct of
self-preservation, obediently headed the storm-stressed craft around.
It was at that moment that another sea broke upon the little vessel.
There was a sputter and a series of coughs from the engine, and
simultaneously the motor, upon which all depended, went dead.