Part 18 (2/2)

But the cloud curtain spread with astonis.h.i.+ng rapidity, till the whole sky was covered. The water turned from green to a dull leaden hue. Puffs of wind came with great velocity, heeling over the _Curlew_ till the foam creamed in her lee scuppers.

The wind moaned in a queer, eerie sort of way, that bespoke the coming of a storm of more than ordinary severity. Jack was a prey to some anxiety as he held the _Curlew_ on her course. If they could not make the dock he was aiming for before the storm struck, there might be serious consequences.

But, to his great relief, they reached the wharf, a tumble-down affair, before the tempest broke. The _Curlew_ was made ”snug,” and this had hardly been done before a mighty gust of wind, followed by a blanket of rain, tore through the air.

”Just in time, boys,” said Jack, as they set out on the run for the structure which they had observed from the water. On closer view it turned out to be nothing more than a barn, not in any too good repair, but still it offered a shelter.

The boys reached it just as a terrific blast of wind swept across the bay, roughening it with mult.i.tudinous whitecaps. A torrent of rain blotted out distances at the same time and turned all the world in their vicinity into a driving white cloud.

The barn proved to be even more rickety than its outside had indicated.

The door was gone and its windows were broken out. But at least it was pleasanter under a roof than it would have been out in the open. The rain, driven by the furious wind, penetrated the rotten, sun-dried s.h.i.+ngles and pattered on the earthen floor, but the boys found a dry place in one corner, where there was a pile of hay.

As the storm increased in fury the clouds began to blot out the daylight. It grew as dark as night almost. The roar of the rain was like the voice of a giant cataract.

”We may have to stay here all night,” said Billy, after a long silence.

”That's true,” rejoined Jack. ”It would be foolhardy to take a boat like the _Curlew_ out in such a storm.”

Suddenly there came a terrific flash of lightning, followed by a sharp clap of thunder. It was succeeded by flash after flash, in blinding succession.

”My, this is certainly a snorter,” exclaimed Billy, and the others agreed with him.

”We won't forget it in a hurry,” said Jack. ”I can't recall when I've heard the wind make such a noise.”

To add to their alarm, as the fury of the wind increased, the old barn visibly quavered. It seemed to rock back and forth on its foundations.

The noise of the wind grew so loud that conversation was presently impossible.

Suddenly there came a fiercer blast than any that had gone before. There was a ripping and rending sound.

”Great Scott! Boys, run for your lives, the old shack is tumbling down,”

cried Jack.

He had scarcely spoken when what he had antic.i.p.ated happened. Beams, boards and s.h.i.+ngles flew in every direction. There was no time even to think. Acting instinctively, each boy threw himself flat upon the pile of moldy hay.

Noddy, in his terror, burrowed deep into it. The noise that accompanied the dissolution of the old barn was terrific. Each boy felt as if at any moment a huge beam might fall on him and crush his life out. Above it all the wind howled with a note of triumph at its work of destruction.

The boys felt as if the end of the world had come.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE END OF JACK'S HOLIDAY.

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