“See any signs of a harbor, Jack?”

It was Nick who called this out, as he watched the skipper of the Tramp swing the pair of binoculars he was handling along the shore ahead, while Jimmy had the wheel.

“Not that I could say for certain,” replied the other, lowering the glasses for a minute in order to rest his strained eyes. “I was trying to get our bearings; and from several things about the shore, that resemble the line of the chart, I begin to believe I know where we are.”

“Not near that awful Murderkill Creek, I hope?” spoke up Nick, shuddering.

“What’s the matter with you?” called George. “Any port in a storm, say I; and even if it happened to be Slaughter Creek, which I believe lies further on toward Lewes, I’d grab it in a hurry, if it came along. Don’t you go to saying a single word against that sweet harbor. We’ll rename it Paradise Creek, if only it serves us this day.”

As it was getting darker all the time, no wonder George had begun to feel nervous. Even though he saved himself, and Nick, should he lose his boat, it would almost break his heart; for in spite of her many and serious faults the jaunty skipper of the erratic Wireless fairly loved the craft.

“Yes, we are not many miles above Murderkill; and that or Jones Creek will have to be our destination; for we must have passed the Dona opening by mistake. But perhaps the storm will kindly hold off until we’re all snug in a harbor.”

While Jack said this, in order to buoy up the downcast chums, deep down in his heart he believed that they were bound to be caught out on that wide stretch of water, and have a fight for their lives, particularly those who were manipulating the tricky speed boat.

But it was useless to ask George to come aboard the Comfort, and try to tow his craft. That would seem too ignoble, worse than having a farm wagon drag the broken-down bubble wagon into town, in fact.

They had gone in as near the western shore as prudence dictated. Jack told everybody to be on the lookout for the first sign of an opening. Beggars could not be choosers, and only too gladly would they welcome any port, however ill-named or hard looking.

“She’s coming, all right,” declared Jimmy, as he crouched there, his hair blowing in the rising wind, and his eyes taking in every sign of approaching trouble.

“Yes, and I’m sorry to say from the one bad quarter, the southeast,” Jack made out to answer, between his set teeth. “If it had only been west, now, we’d have had the shelter of the land, and could have crept along nicely until we got where we wanted to go.”

The waves were surely increasing in size, and the small craft began to heave in a very suggestive way. When they grew still larger, under the influence of the rising wind, Jack expected that with the passing of each billow the screw would flash out of water. That was the time to be dreaded; for as resistance suddenly ceased with the passage of the wave, the screw would revolve at lightning speed, and something was apt to go wrong.

Let an accident occur when in such a bad predicament, and it would be all over with the unlucky mariners who chanced to be on the disabled boat.

“Be mighty careful, Herb and George,” he called to the others. “Watch each billow, and slow the engine before the screw is exposed. You know what I mean. You’ve both done the same trick before.”

Constant vigilance was to be the price of safety from this moment on. Nothing must distract the attention of those who manipulated the motors of the three boats caught in this sea in a storm.

Of course, George was accustomed to handling his narrow craft. Few amateurs could have done better than the present skipper. He knew her good qualities to a fraction, and was also acquainted with the bad ones. Consequently, he was aware just how far he could allow her quarter to face the sweep of wind and waves, without being thrown on her beam-ends.

It was a ticklish business, very much like managing a treacherous mule, loaded with kicks and bites at both ends. One little error of judgment, and the result would be a spill that must toss the occupants into the raging waters.

Jack had insisted that the owner of the Wireless provide himself with life preservers; each boat carried a couple, but in the case of George and Nick, four had not been deemed too many.

Acting on the advice of Jack, George had fastened one of the cork jackets on himself before the storm really broke; because afterwards he would have no time to spare in attempting such a thing.

Nick had gone him one better; and seemed to be of huge proportions as he crouched there, waiting for the worst to happen. He had also secured his old White Wings, which had figured quite largely in previous cruises, to his shoulders, as if he hoped and believed that the bags filled with air would be of considerable assistance in keeping him afloat.

Altogether Nick looked next door to a freak escaped from some side show connected with a Barnum and Bailey’s circus. Jack often remembered the sight with more or less inward laughter. But it was no time for merriment now, with that wind growing in violence, and the waves assuming a most threatening appearance.

The minutes seemed like hours, so intense was the strain that held them in its terrible grip. Jack had a double duty to perform, watching those onsweeping waves, and at the same time keeping the shore under a close supervision, so that he might discover when they came opposite the mouth of a creek.

Such a place might be so narrow as to pass unnoticed unless one had exceedingly keen eyes; and, moreover, kept up an unremitting watch.

Fortunately they were not fated to experience the worst that might have happened to them; for the crux of the storm had not come along by any means.

Jack suddenly uttered a yell that startled the others on the laboring boats.

“I saw it, boys; it’s all right! Just follow after me; you first, George; and Herb bringing up the rear. Ready now! Here goes!”

As he shouted these words at the top of his voice, for the water was making considerable racket by now, Jack began to head straight for the shore, so that the boat was soon running with the spinning sea.

If he had made a mistake, and the opening failed them, there could be nothing left but to beach their boats, and to try to save themselves from the wreckage as best they might.

But Jack had not made an error of judgment, for presently the others also saw the creek, with its inviting mouth. Even timorous Nick was only too delighted to find a safe harbor from the wild gale to care just then what the name of the creek might happen to be; one was just as good as another to them all.

Jack made the shelter, and George managed to swing in, though his boat did almost go over, being struck on the side by a counter sea, when the pilot was not expecting it, so that she seemed to hang there for a second or two, in the balance.

But Nick rolled to the other side, and this dead weight was sufficient to keep the narrow craft from going completely over; she righted, and swept into the mouth of the creek.

The steady going old Comfort came rolling in like a big tub, with Herb and Josh not at all alarmed, such was their faith in the reliable qualities of the staunch craft under their feet. And it might be noticed that Herb’s pride in his possession increased in proportion as George’s faith decreased. What suited one did not please the other at all, apparently.

Making their way into the creek they tied up, being careful lest they find themselves high and dry at low tide. Jack kept tabs on the state of the tide, and at its flood wanted several more feet under him than while it was at ebb.

“Let us give thanks,” said Nick, with due reverence, as they found themselves safe. “That was a nasty little scare, all right. Our old Wireless kicked like a bucking broncho; I say that, even though I never rode a cow pony, and only saw the breed at the circus. Oh! I’m glad to be alive right now, and able to eat a few more camp meals!”

No one even called him down for mentioning such a thing as food; for as they had not taken the time to more than munch a few bites at noon, it stood to reason that everybody was feeling quite sharp set.

“No fire outdoors tonight, fellows, for here comes the rain,” said Jack; and even as he spoke the big drops did commence to fall, sending them every one under shelter.

George was hustling in the endeavor to get his tent up, and succeeded in doing so before the rain became very heavy. Both Jack and Herb had had a hunting cabin placed on their boats since last they took a long cruise, for they knew how comfortable such a cover must prove in time of stress and foul weather. But George, believing that to do this would keep his boat out of the speed class, had declined to follow suit, using a tent instead, which was fastened to a ridge pole stretched at night-time fore and aft at a certain height above the cockpit.

Of course, once George had this waterproof canvas covering in place he too was able to laugh at the rain that now poured down. It might not be just as cozy under his flapping canvas as beneath the steady roofs which the other boats boasted; but George would not complain, and Nick dared not.

Of course, every pair now had to cook their own supper. But it was not the first time this same thing had occurred by any means; and hence they knew just how to go about it.

Each boat was supplied with one of those splendid Juwel kerosene burning gas stoves, which burn common oil turned into a delightful blue flame by the process of a generator. Once this was started, all manner of cooking could be carried on. Indeed, it is simply astonishing how much can be accomplished by means of this clever little device, which most canoeists carry with them as a necessity, as well as a comfort.

The boys had tied up in such a way that they could call out to one another, as the humor seized them. And hence, there was more or less exchange of comments on the bill of fare for supper that evening.

When the meal had been finished night was at hand, though only for the storm no doubt the sun might still have been seen shining in the low west. Jimmy got out his banjo, and the musical plunkety-plunk of its strings, now and then accompanying one of his jolly songs, did much to cheer them up.

Jack busied himself with his charts meanwhile, for there was a nasty little experience awaiting them when they reached Lewes, where they must watch for a favorable opportunity to pass out upon the open Atlantic, and cover ten miles or so like a covey of frightened partridges, heading for the inlet to Rehoboth Bay, and actually passing around Cape Henlopen, since boats the size of theirs could not well be carted across the land to Love Creek, as if they were canoes.

Nick busied himself with the last of the oysters, which he had made sure to throw aboard the Wireless, and had found no time up to now, to tackle. George was tinkering with his motor, a customary amusement with him; for his heart was bent on learning how to coax yet another bit of speed from the engine that racked his boat so terribly when put at full speed.

On the Comfort, Josh and Herb, with room to spare, were having a game of dominoes, and enjoying themselves very much. This was the time when the joy of having plenty of elbow room made itself manifest.

Later on, during a little lull in the rainfall, Jack crept out to take observation, just as though he might have been an old salt, on board a sea-going vessel.

The storm was raging quite furiously, and made a roar that must have seemed more or less terrifying, had one been out on the big bay, instead of having this snug harbor.

“Whether this is Murderkill Creek, or the one rejoicing in the aristocratic name of Jones, it doesn’t matter one cent,” he declared, as he turned to Jimmy, who had followed him outside for a breath of air before laying down to sleep. “Just listen to that howl out yonder, and then call this bully place a bad name, will you? Let her whoop it up as she pleases, we can laugh, and sleep in peace; for there’s good ground between us and the raging sea. Hear the waves break on shore, would you, Jimmy? Starting out by rescuing a poor chap from a watery grave did bring us good luck, now, I’m thinking.”