This is Eastville,
this side."
Perry groaned. He had rowed in a half-circle then. Unless Cas had
directed him wrong. Presently the true explanation came to him. The tide
had turned between the time the _Follow Me's_ crowd had gone ashore and
the time that Perry had reached that boat, and Cas had not allowed for
the fact that the cruiser had swung around! "Well," he said wearily, "I
guess I've got to row across again."
"Too bad," sympathised one of the men. "It's most a mile. Guess, though,
you'll be able to see your way pretty soon. This fog's burning off
fast."
Out of sight of the men Perry again laid his oars down and reached
behind him for the can of milk. It was rather warm, but it tasted good
for all of that. Then, putting the wooden stopper back in place, he once
more took up his task. Perhaps he might have been rowing around that
harbour yet had not the fog suddenly disappeared as if by magic. Wisps
of it remained here and there, but even as he watched them, they curled
up and were burned into nothingness like feathers in a fire. He found
himself near the head of a two-mile-long harbour. The calm blue water
was rippling under the brushing of a light southerly breeze and here and
there lay boats anchored or moored.
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