And he did, sleeping most of the afternoon, while Bob and Dan played cards and Nelson busied himself at the engine. The wiring hadn’t satisfied him of late and so he put in new connections all over and had a nice, messy time of it. About half-past four the fog lifted somewhat and by six was almost gone. A cool breeze blew down from the north and in the west the sun set in a pool of orange and vermilion. The Four doffed oilskins and sweaters and got into respectable attire, and at half-past six went ashore for dinner. In the evening they played Five Hundred until nearly ten o’clock, at which time Tom was seventeen hundred and something in the hole. Whereupon he said he was going to bed and in proof of the assertion tossed the cards into Dan’s bunk, where they spread themselves out artistically from top to bottom. Dan was for forcing Tom to pick them up, and during the fracas following Nelson and Bob made things shipshape for the night. Then the riot was quelled and, after reciting the “Dirge of the Salt Codfish,” Tom and Dan consented to retire. Once, hours later, Bob awoke with the notion that some one had called him. But what he had heard was only Tom talking in his dreams. “I have lost my ticket,” said Tom very distinctly, “but I wish to go to Steamboat Wharf.” CHAPTER XVI—WITNESSES A DEFEAT FOR THE _VAGABOND_ Breakfast was over and the crew of the _Vagabond_ were gathered around the chart which lay spread open on the cabin roof. It was foggy again this morning, but the sunlight filtered through the gray mist, lending warmth and color and promise of better things. “She’ll clear up before noon,” Nelson had oracularly declared a moment before. “We’ll clean up the launch this morning and go on to Newport after luncheon.” “There seems to be two ways of going,” said Bob. “We can go through between the mainland and Nonamesset Island or we can run down and around the end of Cuttihunk. It looks like an even thing as far as distance is concerned.” “Well, if it clears up nicely,” answered Nelson, “suppose we take the outside route. We don’t have to go around Cuttihunk, though, Bob; if you’ll look at the chart you’ll find there’s a fair passage for small boats between Naushon and Pasque, and between Pasque and Nashawena there’s a good mile of clear water called Quicks Hole.” “Yes, I see,” said Bob. “Let’s go through Quicks Hole.” “Nonsense,” exclaimed Dan, pushing Bob aside. “What we want to do is to make for Nonamesset, leaving Uncatena on the starboard bow, head so’so’west for Penikese, keeping Woepecket on the weather rail, whatever that is, bear south off the no’east corner of Nashawena, give Cuttihunk the cold shoulder, dip our colors to Naushon, run through Canapitset Cut and drop anchor in Quamquisset for five o’clock tea!” “Help!” yelled Nelson. “Great Scott, what names!” laughed Bob.