CHAPTER XI.
CAPTAIN HANNOCK'S PLOT.
The sky was overcast, and Dibble said that a storm was brewing.
"Will it be a bad one?"
"I can't say. Sometimes a little storm outside is a bad one in the Sound, and then again it's just the opposite. I remember six years ago, sailing from Boston to Norwalk that we struck a little storm that didn't look like more than a puff of wind, and yet when we were done with it we hadn't any main-topmast worth speaking of."
"I should like to see a real storm," I said.
The old sailor shook his head.
"They're nicer to sit by a good fire and read about than to be in. You never know what to expect. Besides the Spitfire's best days are over."
Presently I saw the captain and Lowell go below together. I was satisfied that they intended to talk matters over, especially when, a little later, Crocker was called to join them.
