less an ocean steamer comes along and
gives us a tow."

Aunt Alice and the girls of the party soon had the luncheon ready, and
the merry feast was made. As Frank remarked, it was a very different
thing to sit there in the broiling sun and eat sandwiches and devilled
eggs, or to consume the same viands with the yacht madly flying along in
rolling waves and dashing spray.

The afternoon palled a little. Youthful enthusiasm and determined good
temper could make light of several hours of discomfort, but toward three
o'clock the sun's rays grew unbearably hot, the glare from the water was
very trying, and the mosquitoes were something awful.

Guy Morris, who probably spent more of his time in a boat than any of the
others, declared that he had never seen such a day.

Mr. Fairfield felt sorry for Ethelyn, who had never had such an
experience before, and so he exerted himself to entertain her, but she
resisted all his attempts, and even though Patty came to her father's
assistance, they found it impossible to make their guest happy.

Reginald was no better. He growled and fretted about the heat and other
discomforts and he was so pompous and overbearing in his manner that it
is not surprising that the boys of Vernondale cordially disliked him.

"As long as we can't go sailing," said Ethelyn, "I should think we
would go home."

"We can't get home," said Patty patiently. She had already explained this
several times to her cousin. "There is no breeze to take us anywhere."

"Well, what will happen to us, then? Shall we stay here forever?"

"There ought to be a breeze in two or three days," said Kenneth Harper,
who could not resist the temptation to chaff this ill-tempered young
person. "Say by Tuesday or Wednesday, I should think a capful of wind
might puff up in some direction."

"It is coming now," said Frank Elliott suddenly; "I certainly feel
a draught."

"Put something around you, my boy," said his mother, "I don't want you
to take cold."

"Let me get you a wrap," said Frank, smiling back at his mother, who was
fanning herself with a folded newspaper.

"The wind is coming," said Guy Morris, and his serious face was a sharp
contrast to the merry ones about him, "and it's no joke this time. Within
ten minutes there'll be a stiff breeze, and within twenty a howling gale,
or I'm no sailor."

As he spoke he was busily preparing to reef the mainsail, and he
consulted hurriedly with the sailors.

At first no one c