The start on Lake Erie had been full of pleasure. The yacht had a good
supply of provisions on board, and everybody was in the best of
spirits. Aleck Pop had brought along his banjo, and on the first
evening out had given them half a dozen plantation songs, for he was a
good singer as well as player. On the day following the breeze had died
away and they had all gone fishing, with fair success. This was the
third day out, and since noon the wind had been blowing at a lively
rate, helping them to make good time on their course toward Cleveland.
Now the wind was blowing little short of a gale, and the sky was
growing blacker each instant.

"We are in for it, beyond a doubt," said Dick, with a serious shake of
his head.

Every inch of canvas had been taken in, yet the _Swallow_ spun
along before the wind rapidly, ever and anon dipping her bow deeply
into the white-caps, which now showed themselves upon all sides.

"Here she comes!" burst out Tom suddenly. "Hold hard, everybody!"

And then the storm burst upon them in all of its fury--a storm which
lasted all night, and one which the Rover boys never forgot.




CHAPTER II.

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF DICK.