“Over here,” Gerald shouted loudly. Then they heard the creak of oars in locks, and after a moment of suspense, during which Gerald shouted again, a boat took shape in the grayness and came toward them. It was manned by two sailors and a young man in uniform who stood in the bow. “All right, kids,” he said cheerfully. “We’ll get you in. Pull around a bit to starboard, men. Now then, one at a time, boys. Give me a hand.” The young officer had made his way to the stern of the small boat while talking and now leaned over toward the group in the water as the rowers backed the boat nearer. “You first, Kendall,” Gerald directed. Kendall stretched forth an arm and the young officer seized his wrist and in a moment he was squirming across the gunwale. Once inside he subsided between two seats and closed his eyes dizzily. When he opened them again Gerald and Harry were out of the water and the officer was asking Gerald if he wanted to pick up the cushion. “Never mind it, thanks,” answered Gerald. “I guess the launch is gone, anyway.” “No, we passed it back there and I guess we can find it again all right. Give way, men.” “Then you didn’t strike it?” asked Gerald in surprise. “Just grazed it, I guess. The lookout saw you and we sheered off in time not to sink you. You fellows take my advice and keep off the water in weather like this.” The steamer sent a blast of her whistle and the rowers altered their course a little. “We were trying to get home when the fog closed in on us,” replied Gerald. “I see. Well, what do you want us to do with you? Put you aboard your launch or take you with us? We can’t tow that boat of yours, of course, but she’ll be picked up sooner or later, I guess. We’re bound for New Haven.” “There she is, sir,” announced one of the sailors as the launch appeared through the fog. “Just put us aboard her, if you please,” said Gerald. “We’ll be all right, thank you. It was very kind of you to pick us up.” The officer laughed. He was a fine-looking chap of twenty-one or two, bronzed and blue-eyed. “Well, we couldn’t do much less, I guess. Glad things didn’t turn out any worse, boys. Live around here, do you?” “Wissining,” answered Harry. “We go to school there; Yardley Hall, you know.” “What’s your boat, please?” asked Gerald. “_Conomoit_, Captain Livingstone; Newport News.” “And what line, sir?” “Blue Cross Line. Say, you’re a bit particular, ain’t you, about who pulls you out of the water? Or are you going to sue for damages? Anything else you’d like to know?” And the officer’s blue eyes twinkled. “I’d like to know your name, please,” replied Gerald, smiling. “Oh, my name? My name’s Hallet, Second Officer.” “Thank you,” answered Gerald. “We’re very much obliged to you.” “You’re welcome. Say, that’s a fine looking little launch there. Glad we didn’t rip her up, boys. Over with you, please.”