Instead, from somewhere off
their port bow travelled the steamer's bellow. That, too, seemed
considerably further away. Then the distant siren sounded, and after
that there was silence again. But the silence lasted only a moment, for
before anyone could hazard a conjecture as to the _Follow Me's_ erratic
behaviour, Phil's voice arose warningly.
"Listen, Steve!" he cried. "Isn't that surf I hear?"
CHAPTER VII
STEVE TAKES HER IN
Steve's hand flew to the clutch as the rest joined Phil at the side of
the boat, and, in the grey silence that ensued, strained their ears.
"You're right," said Neil, after an instant. "There's surf there, or I'm
a Dutchman. And it isn't far away."
Steve, who had handed the wheel to Joe, nodded. "It's surf, all right,"
he agreed, "but it hasn't any business there. What are you going to do
when you can't depend on the chart? Well, the only thing for us to try
is another direction." He swung the wheel well to port and slid the
clutch in gently and, with the engine throttled down, the _Adventurer_
nosed forward once more. "Phil, beat it out to the bow and keep your
ears open, will you? Watch that deck, though; it's slippery." An anxious
silence held for several minutes.
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