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_.
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