happen to need it; but there was little danger of
that, unless the wind should continue to be altogether against them.

It was blowing hard when the boys finished their dinner, but no harder
than it had already blown several times that day; and "The Swallow"
seemed to be putting forth her very best qualities as a "sea-boat."

There was no immediate danger apparently; but there was one "symptom"
which Dab discerned, as he glanced around the horizon, which gave him
more anxiety than either the stiff breeze or the rough sea.

The coming darkness?

No; for stars and lighthouses can be seen at night, and steering by them
is easy enough.

Nights are pretty dark things, sometimes, as most people know; but the
darkest thing to be met with at sea, whether by night or by day, is a
_fog_, and Dabney saw signs of one coming. Rain, too, might come with
it, but that would be of small account.

"Boys," he said, "do you know we're out of sight of land?"

"Oh, no, we're not!" replied Ford confidently. "Look yonder."

"That isn't land, Ford. That's only a fog-bank, and we shall be all in
the dark in ten minutes. The wind is changing, too, and I hardly know
where we are."

"Look at your compass."

"That tells me the wind is changing a little, and it's going down; but I
wouldn't dare to run towards the shore in a fog, and at night."

"Why not?"

"Why? Don't you remember those breakers? Would you like to be blown
through them, and not see where you were going?"

"Well, no," said Ford: "I rather guess I wouldn't."

"Jes' you let Capt'in Kinzer handle dis yer boat," almost crustily
interposed Dick Lee. "He's de on'y feller on board dat un'erstands
nagivation."

"Shouldn't wonder if you're right," said Ford good-humoredly. "At all
events, I sha'n't interfere. But, Dab, what do you mean to do about it?"

"Swing a lantern at the mast-head, and sail right along. You and Dick
get a nap, by and by, if you can. I won't try to sleep till daylight."

"Sleep? Catch me sleeping!"

"You must; and so must Dick, when the time comes. It won't do for us to
all get worn out together. If we did, who'd handle the boat?"

Ford's respect for Dabney Kinzer was growing hourly. Here was this
overgrown gawk of a green country boy, just out of his roundabouts, who
had never spent more than a day at a time in the great city, and never
lived in any kind of a boarding-house; in fact, here was a fellow who
had had no advantages whatever,--coming ou