"We had better go back," urged Aunt Kate, and the prow of the Gem was
swung around. Other boats, too small or not staunch enough to weather
the blow that was evidently preparing, had turned about for a run to
shore. There passed Betty's craft the two boys whose canoe had been
taken.

"Any luck?" asked Betty, interestedly.

"No, we haven't found a trace of it yet," the older one replied.

In the West dark masses of vapor were piling up, and now and then the
clouds were split by a jagged chain of lightning, while the
ever-in-creasing rumble of thunder told of the onrush of the storm.

"We're going to get caught!" declared Mollie. "I guess I'll close the
ports, Betty."

"Do; and bring out my raincoat, please."

Attired in this protective garment over her sailor suit, the Little
Captain stood at the wheel.

With a blast that flecked the crests of the waves into foam, with a
rattle and roar, and a vicious swish of rain, the storm broke over the
Gem while she was yet a mile from the camp on Elm Island. The boat
heeled over, for her cabin was high and offered a broad surface to the
wind.

"We'll capsize!" screamed Amy.