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"Where are we, Peterson?" I asked, putting a finger on the wet chart

before us

"I don't know," replied the old man "It depends on the drift, which

we can't calculate Soundingswould break, so we could see the light--there ain't

any fog-buoy on that channel mouth, and it'sthaton five o'clock, and in this

light, it soon would be night for us Peterson caught the ti to anchor unless

we hty wet out here Better buck on into

it"

So we bucked on in, till five, till five-thirty, till six, and all

the boat's lights revealed was a yellow circle of fog that traveled

with us Wet and chilled, o stood at the wheel together, in such

hard conditions that no navigator and no pilot could have done rope

"We must have missed her!" adulf, and I don't fancy piling her up on some shore in

here What do you think we should do, Mr Harry?"

"Listen!" said I, raising a hand

"There's no bell-buoy," said he

"No, but hark Don't you hear the birds--there's aover yonder"

"Right, by George!" said he "But where?"