captain ordered some sail taken in, in anticipation of a storm.
At noon the mist appeared to lift a little, and once more the wind sprang up. This continued for several hours, when, of a sudden, a strange humming filled the air.
"What can that be?" cried Dave, who was on the forward deck.
"It's wind!" cried Billy Dill. "A reg'lar tor nado, too."
Captain Marshall was on deck, no longer disposed to trust his first mate. He at once ordered all of the sails taken in and stowed away securely. This was just accomplished, when the hurricane—for it was nothing less—struck the Stormy Petrel, almost sending the bark on her beam ends.
"Better go below!" shrieked the captain to the three boys. "It's not safe for you on deck."
"I'll be careful," answered Phil, but the master of the bark shook his head, and then the three lads started for the companionway, holding on to first one thing and then another as they moved along.
Phil had just reached the bottom of the steps, Roger was half-way down, and Dave still at the top, when a wild cry from the bow reached their ears.
"Hold tight, all of ye!" came in the voice of Billy Dill. "Hold on, or ye'll be swept overboard, sure!"
