rain dashed violently into his face, drenching him completely.
"This is no place for you, lad!" bellowed Captain Marshall, trying to make himself heard above the wind. "Better go below again."
"I'll be careful," pleaded Dave. "I love to watch a storm—I always did, when I was on the farm. I never thought of hiding, no matter how hard it thundered or lightened."
The master of the bark gazed for a second at him in admiration.
"Well, I was the same," he said. "But be careful, and don't go close to the rail."
Dave remained in the vicinity of the cabin. When another flash lit up the scene, he saw Billy Dill near the bow, stowing away some rope in the most unconcerned fashion possible. The old tar was in his element, and said afterward that the storm had done him more good than gallons of medicine would have accomplished. "Saterated me with salt brine, an' thet's wot I needed," were his words.
"How do you like it, now?" asked Captain Mar shall, coming up a little later, while there was something of a lull.
"I don't mind it," answered Dave, smiling. "It's a little excitement, and that is what I like."
"I am thankful that you called me when you did."
