“Now let her off a few points,” he directed.

Boom!

“Oh, what was that?” cried Miss Elting, her voice barely heard in the shriek of the gale.  “What happened?”

“Jib gone by the board,” shouted the captain.  “Lucky if we don’t lose the mainsail the same way.”

Harriet had not uttered a sound when the startling report had boomed out above the roar of the storm, but her heart had seemed to leap into her throat.  Her arms had grown numb under the strain of holding the wheel, for the sea was hurling its tremendous force against the craft, requiring great effort on the part of the helmswoman to keep the boat on its course.  But she clung doggedly to her chosen task, seeking to pierce the darkness ahead with her gaze.  The salt water made her eyes smart so that she could scarcely see at all.  Yet she could feel the wind on her face, and by that guide alone she was enabled to keep the “Sue” headed into the storm.  She long since had ceased trying to keep the boat on a compass course, for the greater part of the time the compass card was invisible either through the spray or solid water, as the case might be.

It was marvelous how the little boat stood up under the bombardment of the Atlantic rollers and the mountains of water that hurled themselves upon her.  Harriet was standing in water up to her knees, but, fortunately, every time the boat rolled or plunged, a volume of salt water was hurled out into the sea itself.

In the cabin everything movable was afloat.  The passengers in there were nearly drowned at times, but in their fright most of them had forgotten their seasickness.  They were clinging to the seats in most instances, screaming with fear.  Miss Elting, deciding that her presence was needed in the cabin rather than outside, plunged into the dark hole head-first.  Quickly gathering herself together, she did her best to calm and comfort the girls, though every plunge of the boat she expected would be its last.  It did not seem possible that the little craft could weather the gale.

Suddenly there came a mighty crash above their heads, followed by a ripping, tearing sound, and above it all sounded the screams of the girls who were fighting their great battle out there in the cockpit of the “Sister Sue.”

The girls in the cabin threw themselves into one another’s arms, screaming wildly.

“Stop it!” shouted Miss Elting.  “Be brave, girls.  Remember, you are Camp Girls!”

The cabin doors burst in and a great green wave hurled them the length of the cabin, crushing them against the bulkhead at the far end, the guardian clinging, gasping, nearly drowned, to a rail above the doorway.

CHAPTER XXIII

WAGING A DESPERATE BATTLE

“We’re lost!” exclaimed Miss Elting, turning back into the cabin.  But she was suddenly attracted by a shout from without.