If they had paused before they left the crest of the hill, however, they would have seen that the slight breeze had died away as quickly as it had arisen, that the great ships had dropped back with the tide, and that they had once more let go their anchors, and taken in their sails. The danger had passed by. But a heavy gray mist was creeping up from the south. With some difficulty the boys shoved off the boat. The tide was on the ebb, and she had been left high and dry on the sand. "There's not enough wind to sail. We will have to pull across," said Carter, getting out the oars. "Where did this fog come from, anyhow?" A thick white wall was shutting in about them as their little boat danced out in the tide rips; the New York shore became more and more indistinct. "Are we heading right?" inquired George, after they had rowed in silence for some time. "I can't see a thing," answered Carter, who was handling the bow oar. "Hark, though! I hear the water against the rocks; we must be off the Battery. Now, a strong pull--together." George laid all his strength in a tremendous heave; there was a sharp snap, and he went over backwards into the bottom: his oar had broken at the rowlock. At once all headway was lost, and they drifted helplessly. "I still hear the water on the shore," said Carter. "Come, overboard! Let's swim for it!" He took off his coat and shoes. George did the same; he was an expert swimmer now, and had long ago made up for his Aunt Clarissa's nervousness. "Don't dive," he said; "lower yourself carefully and get the right direction." The boys slid into the swift current. They had taken but two or three strokes when Carter turned. "Oh dear," he exclaimed, "my coat's there, and in the pocket is a letter. That boat's going right out to the British. They must not get it." "Swim on," said George. "I'll go back for it. Shout when you reach the shore." The shape of the boat could just be seen; he swung about and put after it, arm over arm. [TO BE CONTINUED.] GOOD TIMES AT THE HORSE SHOW. BY WALTER CLARK NICHOLS. It was really the young people who enjoyed most keenly the eleventh annual Horse Show in New York two weeks ago. Even the horses could have told you that; for the best-bred and wisest among all the well-bred and wise ones that were there on exhibition knew that it was in the daytime, when the boys and girls were out in force, that they, the horses, received the undivided attention.