"Oh, my, but this is a corker!"

It was Tom who uttered the words, half an hour after he had cautioned
everybody to hold fast. He was standing at the wheel, helping Dick to
make the _Swallow_ keep her bow up to the waves, which rolled
fiercely on every side of the craft. He cried out at the top of his
lungs, yet his elder brother understood him with difficulty.

"I wish we were out of it," returned Dick. "Did Sam go below, as I
ordered?"

"Yes."

"What of Aleck?"

"He is in the galley, trying to keep his dishes from being smashed to
bits. He is scared, I can tell you, and said he was sure we were going
to the bottom."

"If I was sure of the course I would steer for shore, Tom. I'm afraid
myself that this is going to be more than we bargained for."

"Pooh, Dick! We've been in as bad a storm before, and you know it."

"But not on Lake Erie. This lake has a reputation for turning out some
nasty ones, that do tremendous damage. Light up, will you?--or we may
be smashing into some other boat before we know it."