Then Phil's voice came from the
fog-hidden bow:
"Surf dead ahead, Steve!" he called.
"Can you see anything?" shouted Steve as he again disengaged.
"No, but I can hear the waves breaking."
They all could now that the propeller had stopped churning. Steve gazed
dazedly from fog to compass and from compass to chart, and finally shook
his head helplessly.
"It's too much for me, fellows," he said. "I'm going back as straight as
I know how, or--" He stopped. "Hang it, there can't be land on _all_
sides!" He pulled the bow still further to port and again started. "Keep
your ears open, Phil," he called. "I'll run her as slow as she'll go. If
you hear the surf plainer, shout."
The _Adventurer_ went on again. After a moment Han, leaning outboard
over the deck rail, said: "It's not so loud, Steve. I think we're going
away from it slowly."
"Or else running parallel," suggested Perry. "Anyhow, it isn't any
nearer."
Another minute or two passed, with all hands listening intently. Then
Phil sounded another warning. "Hold up, Steve! I may be crazy, but I'll
swear there's surf dead ahead again!"
Steve motioned to Joe and, yielding the wheel after throwing out the
clutch again, swung around a stanchion and crept cautiously along the
roof of the main cabin and galley until he reached Phil's side.
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