“The launch has swung around, probably,” said Gerald. “Well, we’ll have to make a try, anyway. There’s no use staying here and drifting around the Sound.” He started the launch slowly ahead and turned her nose toward where, in his belief, the Connecticut shore lay some mile and a half away. Harry went back to the fog-horn and Kendall resumed his position as lookout in the bow. Now and then a whistle sounded at a distance in one direction or another, and once they heard the slow, steady beat of a propeller through the enveloping mist, but no craft came very near them, and _The Dart_, proceeding slowly and cautiously, with Harry winding lugubrious wails of warning from the patent fog-horn every half minute or so and Kendall straining his eyes into the gray wall ahead, slid through the water. In spite of the fact that it seemed quite probable that they might have to spend the night wandering around the Sound, the three boys were in high spirits, due, doubtless, to the reaction which usually follows a moment of peril, and chattered like magpies. It was unanimously agreed that it would be quite unnecessary to mention their misadventure to anyone. “Toby would probably tell us to keep off the water,” said Harry. “And I guess your father would have something to say, too, Gerald.” Gerald smiled. “He probably would. It’s all over and I’ve learned my lesson, which is keep on dry land when there’s a fog in sight. Kendall, were you scared?” Kendall hesitated a moment. Then, “Yes,” he answered quite honestly. “I was. I wasn’t scared when I was in the water so much, but I certainly hated to take that jump!” “I don’t blame you,” said Harry. “It’s no fun when you can’t swim. That’s something you’ll have to learn, Burtis.” “I’m going to. I don’t believe it’ll be hard. I swam a little to-day.” Harry laughed. “Of course you could with a cork cushion under your chin. You’ll find it different when there’s nothing to hold you up.” “Don’t discourage him,” said Gerald, smiling. “We’ll take him down to the river some day, Harry, and put him through his stunts. See anything, Kendall?” “Nothing,” replied the lookout at the bow. “There’s a sound somewhere, though.” They all listened. Then Harry gave a shout. “It’s a train, Gerald. We must be getting near shore.” “Yes. And I think I hear a bell. Do you?” The others agreed that they did. “It’s a fog-bell on some ship,” said Gerald. “Let’s make for it and maybe they can tell us where we are.” He turned the bow of _The Dart_ a little more to starboard and they ran slowly on, the _ding-dong_ of the unseen bell growing momentarily louder. Presently, “Why were you so anxious to find out the name of that steamer?” asked Harry. “I thought that perhaps it was one of Dad’s boats,” replied Gerald. “Oh! And was it?” “Yes, a Blue Cross boat. I’m going to send that chap something. He was awfully decent to us.” “Why not, seeing that he ran us down?” laughed Harry.