aid Trot.

"If there was a cloud in the sky even as big as my thumb, we might
worry about it; but--look, Cap'n!--the sky is as clear as can be."

He looked again and nodded.

"P'r'aps we can make the cave, all right," he agreed, not wishing to
disappoint her. "It's only a little way out, an' we'll be on the
watch; so come along, Trot."

Together they descended the winding path to the beach. It was no
trouble for the girl to keep her footing on the steep way, but Cap'n
Bill, because of his wooden leg, had to hold on to rocks and roots now
and then to save himself from tumbling. On a level path he was as spry
as anyone, but to climb up hill or down required some care.

They reached the boat safely and while Trot was untying the rope Cap'n
Bill reached into a crevice of the rock and drew out several tallow
candles and a box of wax matches, which he thrust into the capacious
pockets of his "sou'wester." This sou'wester was a short coat of
oilskin which the old sailor wore on all occasions--when he wore a coat
at all--and the pockets always contained a variety of objects, useful
and ornamental, which made even Trot wonder where they all came from
and why Cap'n Bill should treasure them. The jackknives--a big one and
a little one--the bits of cord, the fishhooks, the nails: these were
handy to have on certain occasions. But bits of shell, and tin boxes
with unknown contents, buttons, pincers, bottles of curious stones and
the like, seemed quite unnecessary to carry around. That was Cap'n
Bill's business, however, and now that he added the candles and the
matches to his collection Trot made no comment, for she knew these last
were to light their way through the caves. The sailor always rowed the
boat, for he handled the oars with strength and skill. Trot sat in the
stern and steered. The place where they embarked was a little bight or
circular bay, and the boat cut across a much larger bay toward a
distant headland where the caves were located, right at the water's
edge. They were nearly a mile from shore and about halfway across the
bay when Trot suddenly sat up straight and exclaimed: "What's that,
Cap'n?"

He stopped rowing and turned half around to look.

"That, Trot," he slowly replied, "looks to me mighty like a whirlpool."

"What makes it, Cap'n?"

"A whirl in the air makes the whirl in the water. I was afraid as we'd
meet with trouble, Trot. Things didn't look right. The air was too
still."

"It's coming