"A steamer," muttered Steve, peering uselessly into the grey void.
"She's a good ways off, though. Give her another pull, Joe."
Again the _Adventurer_ proclaimed her position but there was no answer
from the steamer. "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.
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