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The Adventure Club Afloat

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all right now." He moved the wheel over slowly, spoke by spoke. "Keep your horn going, Perry. We're entering the harbour. Watch for buoys, fellows. Take it on this side, Joe." Followed a dubious five minutes during which the only sounds that reached them from outside the boat were distant fog signals and, once, the unmistakable moo of a cow! "Gee," murmured Perry, "that's the best thing I've heard all day! That means we really are in the harbour, doesn't it?" "Might be a sea-cow," suggested Ossie, from the companion. "Ready with the bow anchor!" called Steve. Han scuttled forward into the mist. "All right, sir!" he announced in his best nautical manner. Steve disengaged the clutch. There was a moment of silence aboard the _Adventurer_. Then: "Over with it, Han," directed Steve. There was a splash, followed by the rasping of the cable through the chock and then a cheerful whistle from the crew as he made fast. "About eighteen feet, Steve, I should say," he called. "Sixteen," corrected the Captain gravely. Joe smiled. "Mean it?" he asked. Steve nodded and put a finger on the chart. "We're right here," he said. Then he covered the compass and drew down the lid of the chart box and stretched his arms luxuriously. "That's over with," he added, "and I'm glad of it! How about dinner, Ossie?" "On the fire, Cap! Ready in five minutes." "Then I'm going to get into a dry shirt. I'm soaked through. Some of you chaps pull the side curtains down on the port side. We might as well keep as dry as we can." "Looks to me as if the fog was rolling in from the starboard, though," said Han. "Yes, it's coming from the southeast, but we'll swing around in a few minutes because the tide's coming in. Wonder where the _Follow Me_ is." "Harry would probably make for harbour, too, wouldn't he?" asked Joe, following the other down to the cabin. "I wouldn't be surprised if we found them here when the fog clears." A yacht, hidden somewhere in the fog ahead, sounded eight bells and was instantly echoed from further away. "Great Scott!" exclaimed Steve. "Is it twelve already?" Joe nodded, glancing at the ship's clock at the end of the cabin. "Two minutes after if our clock's right. Say, Steve, the next time we go out in a fog we'll--um--we won't go, eh?" "Not while I'm running this hooker," agreed Steve with intense conviction. "Now that it's over, Joe, I don't mind telling you that I was a bit worried. I wanted like anything to drop anchor back there by the jetty." "Why didn't you then?" "I don't quite know," replied the other thoughtfully, "but I think it was chiefly because I didn't like to be beaten." "Dinner!" called Ossie from the forward cabin. "All hands to dinner! Get a move on!" CHAPTER VIII PERRY LOSES HIS WAY They stayed aboard all that day, for the fog held tight, and, if Steve's calculations were right, the _Adventurer_ lay well down toward the entrance to the harbour and the nearest settlement was a good mile and three-quarters away. None of the seven felt sufficiently ambitious to put out for shore in that smother of mist. They managed to pass the time without much trouble, however. There was always the graphophone, although they were destined to become rather tired of the records, and Steve, Joe, Han and Neil played whist most of the afternoon. Phil curled up on a couch and read, and Ossie and Perry, after having a violent argument over the proper way to make an omelet decided to settle the question then and there. By the time the two omelets were prepared the whist players were ready to stop and the entire ship's company partook of the rival concoctions and decided the matter in favour of Ossie. "Although," explained Joe, "I'm not saying that Perry's omelet is bad. If he had remembered to put a little salt in it--" "I did!" declared Perry resentfully. "You don't know a decent omelet when you see it. Look how light mine was! Why, it was twice as high as Ossie's!" "That's just it," said Steve gravely. "It was so light that it sort of faded away before you could taste it. An omelet, Perry, should be substantial and filling." "That shows how much you know about it," jeered Perry. "There were just as many eggs in mine as there were in his. Only I made mine with water and beat the eggs separately--" "Ah, there it is, you see," drawled Joe. "You beat the poor little eggs. I'm surprised at you, Perry. Any fellow who will beat an inoffensive egg--" "Huh, I found one that wasn't inoffensive by a long shot! Someone will have to get some eggs tomorrow, for there are only eight left." "What!" Han viewed Perry in disgust. "Mean to say you went and used them all up making those silly omelets?" "I notice you ate the silly omelets," said Ossie. "One egg apiece is enough for breakfast, isn't it?" "Not for me. The doctor ordered two every morning. If I don't have two eggs for breakfast I shall mutiny." "If you do you'll be put in irons," said Joe. "Or swung from the yard-arm. Say, how long before we're going to have something to eat, Ossie? I'm hungry. That egg thing sort of whetted my appetite." "Gosh, you fellows would keep me cooking all the time," grumbled the steward. "It's only five, and we don't have supper until six. So you can plaguey well starve for an hour." "Then I shall go to sleep and--um--forget the pangs of hunger. Move your big feet out of the way, Phil." "I like your cheek, you duffer! Go on back to your own bunk." "Too faint for want of food," murmured Joe, stretching himself out in spite of Phil's protests. "Someone sing to me, please." Supper went very well, in spite of the mid-afternoon luncheon, and after that the riding light was set for the night, the hatches drawn shut and all hands settled down to pass the evening in whatever way seemed best. But bedtime came early tonight and, by half-past nine, with the sound of a distant siren coming to them at intervals and the yacht's bells chiming the hours and half-hours, all lights were out below and the _Adventurer_ was wrapped in fog and silence. The fog still held in the morning, although at times it took on a yellowish tinge and made them hopeful that it would burn off. Steve said it was not quite so thick, but no one else was able to see much difference in it. Han managed to subsist on one egg, in spite of gloomy

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