muttered ugly things to himself, for his dead reckoning had gone
astray and he was worried. The fog, if anything, was thicker than
ever. He could not even make out the phosphorescent water that
curled out from the _Maggie's_ forefoot.

Time passed. Suddenly Mr. Gibney thrilled electrically to a
shrill yip from Captain Scraggs.

"What's that?" Mr. Gibney bawled.

"I dunno. Sounds like the surf, Gib."

"Ain't you been on this run long enough to know that the surf
don't sound like nothin' else in life but breakers?" Gibney
retorted wrathfully.

"I ain't certain, Gib."

Instantly Gibney signalled McGuffey for half speed ahead.

"Breakers on the starboard bow," yelled Captain Scraggs.

"Port bow," The Squarehead corrected him.

"Oh, my great patience!" Mr. Gibney groaned. "They're on both
bows an' we're headed straight for the beach. Here's where we all
go to hell together," and he yanked wildly at the signal wire
that led to the engine room, with the intention of giving
McGuffey four bells--the signal aboard the _Maggie_ for full
speed astern. At the second jerk the wire broke, but not until