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The Adventure Club Afloat

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the gentle _swish-swash_ of tiny waves breaking on a beach. In the fog it was difficult to tell whether the sound came from directly ahead or from starboard. At all events, when Steve turned his head to port the sound was certainly at his right or behind him. "I'll try it again," he said. "You stay here, Phil." He climbed back to the bridge deck. "Perry, are you working that fog-horn?" he demanded. "If you aren't, get busy with it!" Once more the cruiser picked up and stole forward, her nose slowly swinging around to port. Steve had given up watching the compass now. All he wanted to do was find clear water. The _swish_ of surf died away by degrees as the _Adventurer_ edged cautiously along and, after five minutes, Steve gave a sigh of relief. "I guess we're all right now," he muttered to Joe, "but I'm going to keep her just moving. We might anchor, I suppose, but it's dollars to doughnuts we'd have to spend the night here; wherever here is," he added, scowling resentfully at the chart. "Look here, Joe." He reached forward and laid a finger on the map. "Here's where we were, or where we ought to have been, when we heard the surf first. According to this we were a good mile from the shore and the only shoal is that one and it's marked six feet at mean low water. There's a black-and-red spar buoy there, as you see, but we haven't sighted it. Now, what I want to know is how the dickens we could have got a mile off our course to starboard. Also, if we are off our course, where are we? Unless we've slipped over the beach and got into that pond down there--" "_Steve! Back up! We're running on the rocks!_" It was the frenzied voice of Phil in the bow. Steve thrust Joe aside and seizing the clutch put it quickly into neutral. "Bring the boat-hook here!" shouted Phil. "Reverse, Steve! Hard!" But Steve had already slammed the clutch into reverse and pulled down the throttle. A mighty thrashing and foaming sounded astern and the _Adventurer_ trembled, hesitated and began to churn her way backward. Perry, boat-hook in hand, was sliding and stumbling along the wet deck. He reached the bow just in time to see the menacing face of a high stone jetty disappear again into the mist. Phil, clinging to the flag-pole, was sprawled on the deck with his legs stretched out to fend the boat off. "Just in time!" he muttered, pulling himself back to safety. "Did you see it, Perry!" "Did I see it? I almost fell overboard! That's enough, Steve!" The _Adventurer_ stopped going astern and Steve called anxiously from the wheel. "What was it, Phil?" he questioned. "A breakwater about ten feet high! We almost hit it!" "A breakwater!" Steve turned swiftly to the chart. "Then I know where we are at last! Look here, Joe!" He pointed. "We're cornered in here, see? Here's the shore on that side and the jetty dead ahead of us. How we got here I don't know, but here we are. If we can find the end of the jetty we're all right. Keep that horn going, Perry!" "Why not drop an anchor where we are?" asked Joe. "We could do that, of course, but here's the harbour right around the end of the jetty. Seems to me we might as well get in there, Joe." "All right," agreed the other doubtfully, "but this feeling around in the dark is making me nervous. First thing we know we'll--um--we'll be running into the First National Bank or the Congregational Church or something! Still, if you think we can find our way, all right. I'm game." Steve eyed the compass thoughtfully and in silence for a moment. Then: "You still there, Phil?" he called. "Yes." "Keep your eyes and ears open. I'm going to try to run along the side of the jetty and find the harbour. If you see a red spar buoy, sing out. Sing out if you see anything at all. Everyone keep a watch. We're going to eat dinner in the harbour or know why!" The cruiser moved slowly on once more, her nose turning sharply. Then she paused, went back and again moved forward, Steve turning the wheel slowly with his eyes on the compass. "Now watch on the starboard side, Phil!" he called. "Which is that? My right?" "Yes, you land-lubber! Hear anything?" "N-no! I didn't _hear_ anything before until we were almost on the breakwater. Sometimes I think I can hear--" Phil's voice died away to silence. "Hear what?" asked Steve. "Well, water sort of lapping. It may be against our boat, though." "Neil, you go forward, too, will you?" said Steve. Neil joined Phil and for some minutes the _Adventurer_ stole quietly along through the grey void with little sound save the slow working of the engine below deck and the lazy thud of the propeller. It was so quiet that when Perry suddenly worked the fog-horn Han almost fell over the wet rail on which he was sitting. It was Ossie who broke the silence finally. "Well, I guess we've got to eat, whether we run ashore or stay afloat. I'm going to put some potatoes on." "All right," replied Steve quietly. "But if you feel a bump, put out your alcohol flame the first thing you do, Ossie." "Sure, but you can bet I won't wait down there to see whether the potatoes are done!" "How about it, you chaps?" asked Steve presently. "Don't hear a thing," answered Phil. "All right. I'm going to bring her around now. Yell the minute you see anything. You needn't worry. She's only crawling and I'll have her going astern before you can shout twice." Very slowly Steve moved the wheel to starboard. In the stillness they could hear the gear creak under the deck. No warning came from the two lookouts and, after a moment, Steve again turned gingerly. For all the watchers could tell, the _Adventurer_ never altered her course, but Steve, his gaze on the compass card, knew that she was headed now straight east. Now and then he peered questioningly forward, but his gaze was defeated by the fog. At intervals Perry sent a groaning wail from the fog-horn. Presently Steve heard the boys talking on the bow and in a moment Neil's voice hailed him: "Surf off to starboard, Steve! Not very near, though." The others listened, but there was just enough noise from the engine to drown the sound heard by the lookouts. "Tell me if it gets louder," called Steve. "Still hear it?" "Not so well," answered Phil. "I think we're going away from it." "Waves against the end of the jetty," explained Steve. "I think we're

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