abin companionway
to look at the barometer.

"Jumping Jehoshaphat!" he shouted, "we're going to ketch it sure!
She's down to twenty-nine an' still a-dropping!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE STORM BREAKS

Tyke was not the only one who had noted the falling barometer. Captain
Hamilton was already standing at the foot of the mainmast, shouting
orders that were taken up by Ditty and Rogers and carried on to the men.

To the north, great masses of leaden-gray clouds were heaped up against
the sky. The sea was as flat as though a giant roller had passed over
it. A curious stillness prevailed--the wind seemed hushed, holding its
breath before the tempest burst.

The hatches were battened down and the storm slides put on the
companionway. Most of the sails were reefed close, and with everything
snug alow and aloft, the _Bertha Hamilton_ awaited the coming storm.

This wait was not long. A streak of white appeared along the sea line,
and this drove nearer with frightful rapidity. With a pandemonium of
sound, the tempest was upon them. The spars bent, groaning beneath the
strain, and the stays grew as taut as bowstrings. The schooner
careened until her copper sheathing showed red against the green and
white of the foaming waves.

The screaming of the wind was deafening. Hundreds of tons of water
crashed against the schooner's sides and poured over her stern. The
sea clawed at her hull as though to tear it in pieces. Tatters of foam
and spindrift swept over the deck and dashed as high as the topgallant
yards. The spray was blinding and hid one end of the craft from the
other.

Staggering under the repeated pounding of the tumbling, churning waves
that shook her from stem to stern, the _Bertha Hamilton_ plunged on,
her bow at times buried in the surges, her spars creaking and groaning,
but holding gallantly.

Ruth had been ordered by her father to go below, and he had advised
Parmalee and Drew to do the same. But the fascination of the storm had
been too much for the young men to resist, and they crouched in the
shelter of the lee side of the deckhouse, holding on tightly while they
watched the unchained fury of the waters. As for Tyke, he was in his
element, and nothing could have induced him to leave the deck.

For nearly twenty-four hours the storm continued, although its chief
fury was spent before the following morning. But the billows still ran
high, and it was evening before the topsails could be set.