sengers and could only mean that she was bound to make up at
least some lost time or explode in the attempt.

* * * * *

Morning came--it seemed to Archie Armstrong that it never would
come--morning came in a thick fog to Tom Topsail and the lad. In a
general way Tom Topsail had his bearings, but he was somewhat doubtful
about trusting to them. The fog thickened with an easterly wind. It
blew wet and rough and cold. The water, in so far as it could be seen
from the island, was breaking in white-capped waves; and an easterly
wind was none of the best on the Burnt Bay course. But Tom Topsail and
Archie put confidently out. The mixed accommodation was not due at
Burnt Bay until 12:33. She would doubtless be late; she was always
late. There was time enough; perhaps there would be time and to spare.
The wind switched a bit to the south of east, however, and became
nearly adverse; and down came the fog, thick and blinding. A hundred
islands, and the narrowing main-shore to port and starboard, were
wiped out of sight. There were no longer landmarks.

"Man," Tom Topsail declared, at last, "I don't know where I is!"

"Drive on, Tom," said Archie.

The punt went forward in a smother of water.

"Half after eleven," Archie remarked.

Tom Topsail hauled the sheet taut to pick up another puff of wind. An
hour passed. Archie had lost the accommodation if she were on time.

"They's an island dead ahead," said Tom. "I feels it. Hark!" he added.
"Does you hear the breakers?"

Archie could hear the wash of the sea.

"Could it be Right-In-the-Way?" Tom Topsail wondered. "Or is it
Mind-Your-Eye Point?"

There was no help in Archie.

"If 'tis Right-In-the-Way," said Tom, "I'd have me bearin's. 'Tis a
marvellous thick fog, this," he complained.

Mind-Your-Eye is a point of the mainland.

"I'm goin' ashore t' find out," Tom determined.

Landed, however, he could make nothing of it. Whether Right-In-the-Way,
an island near by Burnt Bay, or Mind-Your-Eye, a long projection of
the main-shore, there was no telling. The fog hid all outlines. If
it were Right-In-the-Way, Tom Topsail could land Archie in Burnt Bay
within half an hour; if it were Mind-Your-Eye point--well, maybe.

"Hark!" Tom exclaimed.

Archie could hear nothing.

"Did you not hear it?" said Tom.

"What, man? Hear _what_?"

"_That!_" Tom ejaculated.

Archie heard the distant whistle of a train.

"I knows this plac