"Perhaps we can get up higher on these boards."

"I've been thinking of that myself," Hodge answered.

The two friends had locked hands across the narrow s.p.a.ce that separated them. Now, by Merriwell first helping Bart and then Bart returning the favor, they managed to get up higher out of the water, and were gratified to find that the boards were sufficiently buoyant to sustain them.

For fifteen or twenty minutes they had thus drifted on, talking and conjecturing, listening at intervals, and now and then sending up a loud call. The fog-siren on the sh.o.r.e was still screeching, and the whistles of vessels were now and then heard. But about them was that impenetrable gray wall of fog.

Having secured an easier position, Frank fumbled with his chilled fingers for his watch, which he finally drew out. It was wet, of course, but, to his surprise, was still merrily ticking away. By holding it near his eyes the time could be told.

"About half an hour, I judge, since the collision."

"No more than that? Seems to me it has been a half a day."

Again there was silence.

"I should think a vessel would anchor, instead of trying to go on in such a fog as this!" Bart snarled.

The memory of the disaster was beginning to make him bitter against the captain.

"They do, usually. The captain thought he could make his way in, that is all!"

"And I'm afraid some of our friends have gone to the bottom as a result of it. We seem in a good way to investigate Davy Jones' locker ourselves!"

"I'm going to believe that our friends are all right. It can't be possible that both the tug and the steamer sank. The tug wasn't really in the collision, you know. She would be able to take off every one from the steamer, no doubt, even if the steamer was so injured that she could not float. The thing I most fear is that some of them may have been hurled overboard, just as we were, and were not lucky enough to find anything to sustain them. But I shall not believe anything of the kind as long as I can hope that it isn't so."

But for Merriwell, Hodge would have been very despondent, especially as the long hours of the afternoon began to wear on and no boat came near them, and their frequent cries seemed to remain unheard; but Frank's hopefulness and cheerful optimism were not without good effect on the mind of his friend, and they were even able at times to talk with some degree of mental comfort.

Frank was sure that they were steadily drifting out to sea. He believed, from the change in the apparent direction of the fog-siren, that they were moving down the coast toward Sandy Hook. But they were evidently floating farther out to sea, for the sounds of the siren were fainter and farther away.

"I believe the fog is going to lighten."

Merriwell lifted himself and strained his eyes through the gloom. A suggestion of a breeze had fanned him.

"If the wind gets up, the fog may be driven away," he said.

"And the wind will kick up a sea!" suggested Bart.

"But if the fog lifts, we will probably be seen by some vessel!"

There could be no doubt that a gentle breeze was beginning to blow.

"Sure enough, the fog is thinning!" Bart cried joyfully. "But I don't hear any more whistles."

"Hark! there one sounded."

"Miles away!"

"Wait till the fog rises. Perhaps there are others."

Anxiously they watched the gray wall. The wind died away, and once or twice it seemed that the fog was growing denser, instead of lightening.

But by and by the sunlight seemed to permeate it. It appeared to become thinner. Then, like a great curtain uplifted, it for a little while swung upward from the face of the heaving sea. All around were the green rollers, rising and falling with an oily swell.

Hodge uttered an exclamation of gratification.

"Look!"

Merriwell looked in the direction indicated. Not a fourth of a mile away a dingy fishing-sloop was bobbing along, with her dirty mainsail and jib set, yet seeming to catch no breeze. Both Merry and Hodge forgot their discomfort, forgot their chilled and benumbed condition, and, lifting themselves as high as they could, shouted for a.s.sistance.

There must have been some breeze in the dingy sails, for the vessel was moving athwart the line of their progress, and they were being carried along by the tide.

"Shout again!" said Merriwell, and again they lifted their voices together.

In another direction a steamer could be seen, but those on the steamer evidently did not see the sufferers on the raft.

"I don't believe there is a soul on the sloop!" Bart declared, in a despairing way.

"Well, if she keeps on her course, we'll get so near that perhaps we can swim to her and climb on board."

But Bart was wrong. Hardly had he made the declaration, when a man appeared on deck, accompanied by a s.h.a.ggy dog.

Merriwell and Hodge renewed their cries to attract his attention. But the man gave them absolutely no heed. Once they fancied that the dog turned his nose in their direction.

"He don't want to see us," Bart growled. "We are near enough for him to hear! I----"

His sentence was interrupted by a young lady who rushed suddenly on deck from the "cuddy" or cabin. A scream issued from her lips as she appeared, and immediately a second man came into view, from whom she seemed to be fleeing.

"My G.o.d! Inza Burrage!"

Merriwell fairly shouted the words.

Inza did not see the raft and her friends. She appeared to see only the s.h.a.ggy-bearded fellow, who now stood grimly looking at her.

"She's going to jump overboard!" cried Hodge, so excited that he almost fell off the raft.

Merriwell shouted with all his might. Inza turned and saw the raft. She uttered another piercing cry, stretched out her hands, and seemed again about to leap into the sea.

Instead of heeding the cry sent up by Merriwell, Inza's pursuer leaped at her to prevent her from jumping over the rail; and, then, bearing her in his strong arms, deliberately carried her back into the cuddy.

Merriwell and Hodge shouted, yelled, screamed. The one man on the deck paid not the slightest attention to their cries.

"He refuses to hear us!" said Hodge.

The other man appeared, and they called again. One of the men went to the tiller, and the course of the sloop was changed.

"They are going to pretend that they did not see us," Frank exclaimed.

"Hold to the raft, Hodge! Stay by it!"

"What are you going to do?" Hodge demanded.