"You sews up my sleeves, eh?
I t'inks you don't do so no more! Eh ?" "More tricks!" exclaimed the captain, when matters had been explained to him, "I wonder if he'll ever be cured ?" But Bob's cure was nearer at hand than either he or the captain expected.
The fine weather continued for a week, during which time the _Eagle_ made good progress.

Then came several days of dead calm, when they were near the Tropic of Capricorn, and they suffered much from the heat of the sun.
"I don't like this," remarked Captain Spark one day, as he looked up at the brassy sky.
"Why not ?" asked Bob, with the familiarity of a relative.
"I think this means a storm, and we're in a poor location for a bad blow.

I don't like it." As the day wore on it became evident that the captain's prophecy was about to be verified.

The wind sprang up suddenly, almost before sail could be shortened, and the _Eagle_ heeled over until if seemed as if she would not right.

That was the beginning of a storm that was worse than the other.
Scudding along under mere rags of canvas, the ship headed right into the swirl of waters agitated by the wind.