"That's funny!" he exclaimed. "The _Follow Me_ sounded away over there!" He looked anxiously at the compass, hesitated and shook his head. "If I didn't know this thing was all right, fellows, I'd say it was crazy. Or if there was a strong current here--" His voice dwindled away to a murmur as he studied the chart again. Just then the _Follow Me's_ fog-horn sounded and it was undeniably further away and well over to port. "Either he's off his course or I am," muttered Steve. "And I simply don't see how I can be. Give them a long one, Perry!" Perry sent a frantic wail across the water and they listened intently. But no reply came from the _Follow Me_. Instead, from somewhere off their port bow travelled the steamer's bellow. That, too, seemed considerably further away. Then the distant siren sounded, and after that there was silence again. But the silence lasted only a moment, for before anyone could hazard a conjecture as to the _Follow Me's_ erratic behaviour, Phil's voice arose warningly. "Listen, Steve!" he cried. "Isn't that surf I hear?" CHAPTER VII STEVE TAKES HER IN Steve's hand flew to the clutch as the rest joined Phil at the side of the boat, and, in the grey silence that ensued, strained their ears. "You're right," said Neil, after an instant. "There's surf there, or I'm a Dutchman. And it isn't far away." Steve, who had handed the wheel to Joe, nodded. "It's surf, all right," he agreed, "but it hasn't any business there. What are you going to do when you can't depend on the chart? Well, the only thing for us to try is another direction." He swung the wheel well to port and slid the clutch in gently and, with the engine throttled down, the _Adventurer_ nosed forward once more. "Phil, beat it out to the bow and keep your ears open, will you? Watch that deck, though; it's slippery." An anxious silence held for several minutes. Then Phil's voice came from the fog-hidden bow: "Surf dead ahead, Steve!" he called. "Can you see anything?" shouted Steve as he again disengaged. "No, but I can hear the waves breaking." They all could now that the propeller had stopped churning. Steve gazed dazedly from fog to compass and from compass to chart, and finally shook his head helplessly. "It's too much for me, fellows," he said. "I'm going back as straight as I know how, or--" He stopped. "Hang it, there can't be land on _all_ sides!" He pulled the bow still further to port and again started. "Keep your ears open, Phil," he called. "I'll run her as slow as she'll go. If you hear the surf plainer, shout." The _Adventurer_ went on again. After a moment Han, leaning outboard over the deck rail, said: "It's not so loud, Steve. I think we're going away from it slowly." "Or else running parallel," suggested Perry. "Anyhow, it isn't any nearer." Another minute or two passed, with all hands listening intently. Then Phil sounded another warning. "Hold up, Steve! I may be crazy, but I'll swear there's surf dead ahead again!"