so that he might exchange words with the others.

"Yes," said Herb at that; "it's getting as dark as the mischief. Guess
we're going to have that storm Jack prophesied this morning, fellows."

"Say, perhaps I'd better be shooting ahead, then," suggested George,
uneasily. "You know this cranky boat of mine isn't the nicest thing
going, to be in when the waves are rolling ten feet high. And it's so
wide here, they'll beat that, in a pinch."

"What would you be after going ahead for, then?" asked Jimmy.

"So as to get to that creek with the lovely name we talked about,"
George replied, looking troubled, nevertheless. "I noted its position
on the chart, and think I might find it."

"But if the storm caught you beforehand, you'd be in a bad pickle,
George!" declared Jack, soberly. "No, better all keep together. Then,
if an accident happens, there's some chance for the others lending a
helping hand. But we'll head in more toward the Delaware side, though
if the wind strikes us from the east it'll be a bad place to be caught
on a lee shore."

Nothing more was said just then. They changed their course somewhat,
and the three little motor boats continued to push steadily forward.
Meanwhile the gloom seemed to gather around them, until even
stout-hearted Jack shuddered a little as he surveyed the wide stretch
of waters that had begun to tumble in the freshening wind, and thought
what might happen if they could find no harbor, with a fierce late
equinoctial gale sweeping across the dangerous bay.

CHAPTER VI.

A CLOSE SHAVE, BUT NO DAMAGE DONE.

"See any signs of a harbor, Jack?"

It was Nick who called this out, as he watched the skipper of the
_Tramp_ swing the pair of binoculars he was handling along the shore
ahead, while Jimmy had the wheel.

"Not that I could say for certain," replied the other, lowering the
glasses for a minute in order to rest his strained eyes. "I was trying
to get our bearings; and from several things about the shore, that
resemble the line of the chart, I begin to believe I know where we are."

"Not near that awful Murderkill Creek, I hope?" spoke up Nick,
shuddering.

"What's the matter with you?" called George. "Any port in a storm, say
I; and even if it happened to be Slaughter Creek, which I believe lies
further on toward Lewes, I'd grab it in a hurry, if it came along.
Don't you go to saying a single word against that sweet harbor. We'll
rename it Paradise Creek, if