She doesn't seem very talkative," said Phil. "How
fast are we going, Steve?"

"Six."

"And how far is Edgartown?"

"About twelve, but we're not going there. I'm trying to make Vineyard
Haven. It's only about two miles." He glanced puzzledly at the compass
and moved the wheel a fraction. "There's a jetty comes out there and I
guess we'd better give it a good wide berth." Collars were pulled up to
keep the moisture from creeping down necks, and Perry begged to be
allowed to manipulate the fog-horn. He went at it whole-souledly and
Steve had to curb his enthusiasm. "Once a minute will do, Perry," he
said. "You sound like a locomotive scaring a cow off the track."

"How do you know there isn't a cow ahead?" demanded Perry. "Or a whale?
Gee, wouldn't it be a surprise if we bust right into a whale? Who would
get the worst of it, Steve?"

"I guess we would. Shut up a minute, fellows, please!"

Silence held the bridge deck, silence save for the subdued purr of the
engine under their feet and the drip, drip of the drops from the awning
edge. Steve peered anxiously ahead, his senses alert. At last:

"Hear anything?" he asked.

They all said no.

"I guess I was mistaken then," Steve explained, "but I could have sworn
I heard surf." He leaned over the chart. "This doesn't show anything,
though, nearer than the land. Toot your horn, Perry."

Perry obeyed. At long intervals the unseen, distant steamer bellowed her
warning and more frequently the _Follow Me_ groaned dismally on a hand
horn. It was ten minutes later, perhaps, when Steve suddenly swung
around and looked back past the bow of the dingey on the after cabin
roof.

"That's funny!" he exclaimed. "The _Follow Me_ sounded away over there!"
He looked anxiously at the compass, hesitated and shook his head. "If I
didn't know this thing was all right, fellows, I'd say it was crazy. Or
if there was a strong current here--" His voice dwindled away to a
murmur as he studied the chart again. Just then the _Follow Me's_
fog-horn sounded and it was undeniably further away and well over to
port. "Either he's off his course or I am," muttered Steve. "And I
simply don't see how I can be. Give them a long one, Perry!"

Perry sent a frantic wail across the water and they listened intently.
But no reply came from the _Follow Me_. Instead, from somewhere off
their port bow travelled the steamer's bellow. That, too, seemed
considerably further away. Then the distant siren sounded,