The Flying Fish seemed fairly to leap forward as Merritt gave her
the full power of her engine. As Rob had said, it did indeed
behoove her occupants to look out for spray. The sparkling spume
came flying back in sheets as she cut through the waves, but the
boys didn't mind that any more than did their weather-beaten
companion. As for Skipper, he barked aloud in sheer joy as the
Flying Fish slid along as if she were trying to live up to her
name to her utmost ability.

"This is a good little sea boat," remarked the captain, as they
plunged onward. "She's as seaworthy as she is speedy, I guess."

"She'll stand a lot of knocking about, and that's a fact," agreed
Rob.

"Well," remarked the old man, gazing about him, "it's a good
thing that she is, fer, if I'm not mistaken--and I'm not often
off as regards the weather--we are goin' ter have quite a little
blow before yer boys get back home."

"A storm?" asked Tubby, somewhat alarmed.

"Oh, no; not what yer might call a storm," laughed the captain;
"but just what we used to term a 'capful uv wind.'"

"Well, so long as it isn't a really bad blow, it won't trouble
the Flying Fish," Rob assured him.

"Hullo!" exclaimed the old man suddenly. "What queer kind uv