isen tremendously, that the cold had
visibly increased, and that the chop had developed into a considerable
sea, and that the snow, too, driving before the wind, was blinding
thick.

Bobby was not, however, alarmed, though he realized there was no time
to be lost if he would reach home before the full force of the rising
blizzard was upon him, and he chided himself for his delay. But the old
skiff was a good sea boat, and Bobby was a good sea-man, and he pulled
fearlessly out upon the wind-swept waters. And here the driving snow
soon swallowed up the land, but Bobby was not afraid, and pulling with
all his might turned down before the storm.

For a little while all went well, and Bobby was congratulating himself
that after all he would reach home before it became too dark to see.
Then suddenly a big sea broke over his stern, and left the skiff half
filled with water. This was serious. He could not relinquish the oars to
bail out the water. Another such deluge would smother him.

Then he realized that the seas had grown too big for him to weather, and
his one hope was to make a landing. He searched his mind for a section
of the shore within his reach, sufficiently free from jagged rocks and
sufficiently sheltered to offer him a safe landing, and all at once he
bethought himself of the bird island where he and Jimmy had gone egging,
and which he had visited many times since.

He was, fortunately, very near the island and when he heard the surf
beating upon its rocky shores he determined quickly to make an effort to
run upon its lee shore. Here, he argued, he could bail the water from
the skiff, and then could pull across to the mainland, where he could
haul up the skiff and walk home. It would be a disagreeable tramp in the
storm, but it was his safest and his only course.

But even in the lee of the island the seas were running high and dashing
upon the rocks with such force that for the instant he held off,
hesitating. There was no other course, however. The half-submerged skiff
would never live to reach the mainland. With every passing minute
conditions were growing worse.

And so, watching for an opportune moment, Bobby drove for the shore. A
roller carried the skiff on its crest, dropped it with a crash upon the
rocks, and receded. Bobby sprang out, seized the painter, and running
forward secured it to a bowlder, that the next sea might not carry it
away.

Then, watching his opportunity, little by little and