Dele JULIO (ie A ghs IN ANIME ISIO IE SHOALS 5

“ Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning,” he muttered to himself.

Suddenly Jack straightened himself up and took a long steady look to
wind ard.

“Tt’s a-coming ; just our luck

“ What is?” asked Hunk.

“Fog,” replied Jack laconically. “See it?” and he pointed to the south,
where faintly visible on the horizon appeared what seemed to be a low bank of
yellow clouds. Then he added :

“Well, let it come; I think I can find Fishing Rip even if the fog is thick
enough to cut; if we can’t, we'll see what we can pick up off Sankaty. Let her
go southeast.”

They sailed on this course for an hour or more, while slowly but surely the
fog came drifting in. Little by little the land was shut out from view; first
Sankaty and then Wauwinnet faded away, and at last Great Point was swallowed
up in the yellow mist.

“ Pleasant,” remarked Jack, as the mainsail gave a great flap to windward, for
with the coming of the fog the wind had almost departed. “I suppose we will
have to drift around here till the wind takes it into its head to blow again.
Well, it don’t much matter, for I think it would be pretty risky business running
out to ‘Rip’ the way the weather looks to-day. There is one consolation; we
are not likely to get run down in this part of the world.”

For another hour the boat drifted with the tide. They had lowered the sail.

“Tt’s no use letting her flap herself to pieces,” Hunk had remarked economi-
eally; and then he had got out their deep-sea fishing lines—not that they
expected to catch much of anything, but it was something to do. “ We might
hook a flounder or two,” remarked Jack.

They fished in silence for a while, and soon both boys were nodding over
their lines. Jack roused himself and peered over the side.

“JT say, Hunk, we are drifting pretty fast. The tide here runs like a” —

“Mercy on us! What’s that?” suddenly ejaculated Hunk.

Jack was on his feet in an instant, straining his eyes in a vain endeavor to
pierce the fog. The sound that had so startled Hunk was one with which both
boys were familiar — the hoarse blast of a fog-horn.

“ Think she’ll run us down?” asked Hunk under his breath.

“Not with this wind,” observed Jack rather dryly. “A fisherman out of his
reckoning, I guess. Get out the oars, Hunk.”

The fog-horn sounded again, this time much nearer, and a few moments
later, dimly discernible, its size magnified to mountainous proportions by the
“loomage”’ of the fog, there could be distinguished the towering sails and then
the black hull of a large ship.

“A square rigger, by Jove!” exclaimed Jack. “What in the mischief can
she be doing in here ?”’

>
!