"
The boys thought little of the warning, for the sky was bright and
blue, broken only by a few gauzy white clouds which streaked it
here and there. They rowed out about a mile, and then laying in
their oars, lowered their grapnel and began to fish. The sport was
good. The fish bit freely and were rapidly hauled on board. Even
Frank was so absorbed in the pursuit that he paid no attention to
the changing aspect of the sky, the increasing roughness of the
sea, or the rapidly rising wind.
Suddenly a heavy drop or two of rain fell in the boat. All looked
up.
"We are in for a squall," Frank exclaimed, "and no mistake. I told
you you would get a ducking, Ruthven."
He had scarcely spoken when the squall was upon them. A deluge of
rain swept down, driven by a strong squall of wind.
"Sit in the bottom of the boat," Frank said; "this is a snorter."
Not a word was said for ten minutes, long before which all were
drenched to the skin. With the rain a sudden darkness had fallen,
and the land was entirely invisible. Frank looked anxiously towards
the shore. The sea was getting up fast, and the boat tugging and
straining at the cord of the grapnel. He shook his head.
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