farther!" exclaimed Diamond. "There is no anchorage
here."
"How do you know? We haven't tried for it."
"But we are not in a harbor."
"No. We are somewhere near the Whitehead Islands, near the mouth of
Penobscot Bay."
"Well, let's keep on as long as there is a breath of wind. I don't fancy
anchoring here. We might be run down in the night."
"And, if we keep on, the chances are two to one that we'll run onto a
reef or pile up on an island. I had much rather take the chances of
anchoring here and being run down. The wind is dying out, and this fog
is shutting down thicker and thicker."
"Well," said Jack, in a dissatisfied way, "this is your boat and you are
in command. You can do as you like."
"I'll do as the majority believes best."
"Then anchor," grunted Browning. "I don't fancy this prowling about in
the fog."
Hodge was in favor of anchoring, and Hans agreed with them, so Jack
was the only one who felt like going on. He gave up in disgust.
While they were talking the last faint breeze had fallen swiftly, and, by
the time it was definitely decided, the White Wings lay becalmed,
rolling helplessly on the swells that came in from the open sea.
"Shimminy Gristmas!" groaned Hans. "I don't like dot roll up und drop
avay motions. Id makes me feel sick to your stomach."
"You will get enough of that as long as we remain anchored out here,"
said Diamond, unpleasantly.
Frank gave the orders, and down came the sails. A sounding showed
they could anchor without trouble, and then the anchor was cast. The
sails were not reefed, for it was not known when they might be required.
Arrangements were made for raising them on short notice.
Night came down swiftly. Lights were set, but the boys felt that a light
was poor protection for them in that darkness and fog.
"If we are in the course of the steamers we'll be run down," grumbled
Jack.
"There'll have to be a regular watch to-night," declared Frank; "and the
fog horn must be used."
Browning had managed to crawl on deck, and he looked disconsolate
and disgusted.
"This is what they call a life on the ocean wave," he grunted. "Oh, it is
more fun than a minstrel show!"
"We'll have to put up with some discomforts," said Merriwell.
"We made a mistake in coming further east than Portland," put in Jack.
"That was a good place to stop."
"Wait till the sun comes out to-morrow and we run into Rockland
Harbor," laughed the owner of the White Wings. "You will change your
tune."
"Well, I hope so."
Hans was given the first watch, and he remained on deck while the
others went below and had supper. At intervals he blew a blast on the
horn, which sounded like some lost animal bellowing in the fog.
Frank laughed and joked, and he succeeded in putting the others in
better spirits after a time. It was comfortable in the cabin, despite the
fog outside.
Hodge made coffee, and the smell of it as it bubbled over the blaze of
the oil stove gave all of them a ravenous feeling of hunger. The little
folding table was let down and spread, and the sight of the food and
smell of the coffee took their minds off the unpleasantness of their
situation.
"It was a foolhardy thing running down here without somebody who
knew the coast," said Jack.
"My dear fellow," smiled Frank, "we have our chart and compass, and I
know a little something about navigation. Quit your worrying. I'll land
you in Rockland to-morrow all right."
"You were going to land us there to-day."
"And so I would had the wind held right and this fog kept off."
"I believe there is a fog factory down this way somewhere," said
Browning.
Hodge announced that supper was ready, and they gathered about the
table. The White Wings was riding on a steady, regular swell, so they
were not shaken up down there, and they found they could eat without
discomfort. Browning was hungry as a bear, and he "pitched into the
spread."
"Well, I don't know as this is too bad after all," he confessed, taking a
third slice of tongue. "We've been in worse places."
"That's right," nodded Hodge. "Pass the sugar. I want a little of this
coffee myself. I made it."
"The coffee is good," acknowledged Jack. "It warms a fellow up. A
little grog wouldn't go bad in a case like this."
"There is no grog on this boat and will not be as long as I own her,"
declared Merriwell. "It's a foolish thing for a lot of fellows on a cruise
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