“Frank!  Listen to what Will says!” called Bluff eagerly.

“What is that?” And Frank’s head came into view.

“He says we might try and see how deep it is here; that perhaps the anchor rope is long enough to reach bottom, and we’d stop drifting out to sea.”

“Good for Will!  That’s a bright idea, now.  Suppose you two fellows try and see if it will work?  Jerry and I seem to be getting on, and there’s hope that we’ll have things moving presently.”

Accordingly, Bluff took up the anchor, which lay forward, and gently dropped it into the smooth water.  Then he allowed the rope to pass slowly through his hands.

“Why, it’s on bottom already!  I don’t believe it’s ten feet deep away out here, Frank!” he said hurriedly.

“Yes, I’ve always read that it was shallow along this coast.  That makes it more dangerous for vessels of any draught, for they’re apt to go aground.  Fasten the cable to that cleat, Bluff.  Make it secure, for we don’t want to lose the whole outfit overboard,” remarked Frank.

“That feels a whole heap better,” remarked Bluff, settling down again.

“Yes, for we’re not moving out further all the time, anyway.  Hang this old fog!  Why did it want to come up on our very first day, and before we had become used to our strange surroundings?”

“Well, we’ve got to just take things as we meet ’em, as Frank does.  You notice that he seldom finds fault with the way things happen; just puts his shoulder to the wheel and lifts it out of the rut,” remarked Bluff.

“Yes, I know that; but every fellow doesn’t happen to be built just the same way.  I wish I could take things as cool as he does; but I never even snap off a picture without feeling more or less excitement quivering my nerves.”

“I don’t suppose, now, you could get a decent picture of this?” Bluff suggested.

“What!  The fog?  Bless your innocent heart, no!  What do you think it would be like—­just a dreary blank plate.  You can’t see anything, so how could it show up in a picture?” jeered Will.

“I wonder some bright genius hasn’t discovered some sort of magic glasses that will let a fellow see through fog?  What a blessing they would be to sailors, and the pilots of ferryboats in New York harbor,” observed Bluff thoughtfully.

“Suppose you devote your spare time to solving that riddle?  Listen!  Was that a shout then?”

“Sounded like it to me; but who would be shouting out here in the fog?” replied Bluff scornfully.

“Come, now.  We may not be the only pebbles on the beach.  Perhaps there are others marooned out here in the fog, and they may be shouting just to keep their courage up, or for some other purpose,” replied Will stoutly.

“Well, the fog won’t last much longer, anyway, and that’s a comfort.”

“How do you know that?” asked Frank, looking up.

“Because I just felt a puff of air.  The wind’s going to rise, and that means an end to the fog,” replied Bluff confidently.