Of the date or the port from which passenger vessels sail these days
there is no published record. It is enough to state that the Camp Fire
party sailed one morning in the early winter a little before noon from a
small harbor south of New York City. The morning had been cold and rainy
and the fog lay thick upon the water many miles from the land.

In spite of the fact that their vessel was to form one of a convoy of a
dozen ships, each boat left port at a different hour, to meet further
out at sea.

Soon after their own sailing, Mrs. Burton retired to her state-room.
Aunt Patricia and the Camp Fire girls insisted upon remaining on deck
for an indefinite length of time.

At what point the United States considers her ships have entered the
danger zone on this side of the Atlantic only persons who have lately
crossed to the other side can know.

When this hour arrived the Camp Fire girls were standing close together,
although separated into small groups. Peggy Webster, Vera Lagerloff and
Bettina Graham were talking to one another; Sally Ashton and Alice
Ashton stood a short distance off with their arms about each other,
drawn together only in moments of excitement. Within a few feet Marta
Clark was beside Mary Gilchrist, with Aunt Patricia not far away, but
apparently paying no attention to any of them.

In truth, it was Aunt Patricia who gave the first signal. The ships
which until now had been at some distance apart were deliberately
forming into the position necessary for their convoy. It was almost as
if they were making ready for a naval attack; the boats slowed down,
mysterious whistles were blown, signals were run up.

An hour or so later and the entire convoy, guarded by United States
torpedo destroyers, were steaming rapidly ahead.

Bettina Graham was leaning over the ship's railing looking toward the
western line of the horizon through a pair of long-distance glasses. In
another moment she offered the glasses to Vera.

"I wonder if you can see the destroyers more distinctly than I can
manage, Vera? The fog is so heavy and the boats are so nearly the same
color. No wonder they are known as the 'gray watch-dogs of the sea!' I
suppose one should feel safer because we are so surrounded, and yet in a
way I am more nervous. Certainly the destroyers do not allow one to
forget the reason for their presence, and I really had not thought a
great deal of our danger from submarines until they appeared."

For a few