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it depends a good bit on how much it veers around," concluded the old sailor.

      Slowly the sun sank in the west. It was growing cloudy and a mist was rising. The mist made Martin Harris shake his head; but, not wishing to alarm the others, he said nothing.

      But soon Dick noticed the mist and so did the rest. "Gracious, supposing we get caught in a fog!" muttered Tom.

      "I was just thinking of it," returned his elder brother. "There will be no fun in it — if we are out of sight of land."

      A quarter of an hour went by, and still no land appeared. It was now so raw that the boys were glad enough to button their coats tightly about them. Then, of a sudden, the fog came rolling over them like a huge cloud, and they were unable to see a dozen yards in any direction.

      "This is the worst yet!" groaned Sam.

      "What's to do now?"

      "Yes, what's to do now?" repeated Sergeant Brown. "Can you make the coast, skipper?"

      "To be sure I can," replied Harris, as he looked at the compass. " But I don't know about landing. You see we might stick our nose into a sandbank before we knowed it."

      "Perhaps the fog will lift?" suggested Carter.

      "A fog like this isn't lifting in a hurry," said Dick. "Like as not it won't move until the sun comes up to-morrow morning," and in this guess he was right.

      A half-hour went by, and from a distance came the deep note of a fog-horn, sounding apparently from up the shore.

      "We ought to have a horn," said Sam. "Some big boat may come along and run us down."

      "There is a horn in the cabin pantry," replied Martin Harris. "We might as well bring it out. If we are sunk one or more of us will most likely be drowned."

      "Oh, don't say that!" ejaculated Carter. "I'll get the horn;" and, running below, he brought it up, and he and Sam took turns at blowing it with all the strength of their lungs.

      "One thing is comforting; those rascals are no better off than we are," was Tom's comment.

      "Yes; but if they founder, what will become of Dora?" said Dick. "I don't believe any one of them would put himself out to save her."

      "I guess you are right there, Dick. I never thought of her, poor girl," replied the brother.

      Dick and Sergeant Brown were well up in the bow, one watching to starboard and the other to port, for anything which might appear through the gloom. The horn was blowing constantly, and now from a distance came the sounds of both horns and bells.

      "We are getting close to some other ships," said Martin Harris. "I reckon we had best take a few reefs in the mainsail and stow away the jib;" and these suggestions were carried out.

      The minutes that followed were anxious ones, for all felt that a collision might occur at any moment. The fog was growing thicker each instant, and this, coupled with the coming of night, seemed to shut them in as with a pall.

      "A boat is dead ahead!" came suddenly from Dick, and Sergeant Brown also gave a cry of warning. Then came a shock and a crash and a splintering of wood, followed by the cries of men and boys and the screams of a woman and a girl.

      "We've struck the Flyaway!" called out Tom, and then he found himself in the water, with Sam alongside of him.

      CHAPTER XXVIII

       HOME AGAIN — CONCLUSION

       Table of Contents

      When the collision came, Dick, to save himself from injury, gave a leap up into the air, and Sergeant Brown did the same. The shock sent the Searchlight backward, and when the youth came down he found himself sprawling on the Flyaway's deck, close beside Dan Baxter.

      "Dick Rover!" gasped the former bully of Putnam Hall. "So it is your boat that has run into us?"

      "Baxter, where is Dora Stanhope?" panted Dick, as soon as he could speak. He was afraid that one or both yachts were going down and that Dora might be drowned. Even in this extreme moment of peril his one thought was for his girl friend.

      "Find out for yourself," burst out Baxter, and aimed a blow at Dick's head with his fist. But the blow never reached its mark, for Mumps hauled the bully backward.

      "We've had enough of this — at least, I've had enough," said Fenwick, astonishing himself at his own boldness. "Dick, Dora is in the cab — no, she's coming up."

      "Save me!" came in a scream from the girl. "Oh, Dick, is it really you!" and she ran right into Dick's arms.

      By this time it was discovered that the two yachts were locked together, the bowsprit of the Flyaway having become entangled in the rigging of the Searchlight. Both yachts were badly damaged, but neither sufficiently so as to be in danger of sinking.

      "Back with you!" came from Arnold Baxter, and fired his shotgun at the police officers. But the rocking of the boats spoiled his aim. Then Sergeant Brown fired, and the elder Baxter went down, shot through the left leg.

      By this time all of the evildoers realized that the final struggle for freedom was at hand, and began to fight desperately, Buddy Girk engaging Dick, Bill Goss facing Carter, and Mrs. Goss beating Martin Harris back with a stewpan from the gallery. In the meantime Tom and Sam swam back to the Searchlight, and clambered on board as rapidly as possible.

      They were in time to see Carter go down, hit over the head by Bill Goss. But that was the last of the fight, so far as the skipper of the ' Flyaway was concerned, for two blows, delivered by Tom and Sam simultaneously, stretched him senseless on the deck.

      "You had better give up!" cried Tom to Dan Baxter, who was doing what he could to get the two yachts apart. "This is our battle."

      "Not much!" muttered the bully. "Stand back, or it will be the worse for you!"

      He sprang at Tom and shoved a pistol under the boy's very nose. But before the weapon could be discharged, Dick, leaving Dora, kicked the pistol from the bully's hand.

      "You villain, take that!" cried Dick, and grappled with Baxter. Both rolled over on the deck, and, shoved by somebody from behind, Sam rolled on top of the pair. A second later all three rolled down the cabin stairs in a heap.

      "Oh, my back!" It was Baxter who uttered the cry, and not without cause, for his backbone had received a hard crack on the bottom step of the stairs.

      "You lie still!" commanded Dick, as he leaped to his feet. "If you dare to move I'll — I'll put you out of the fight altogether."

      "Don't — don't shoot me!" panted Dan Baxter in sudden fear. "I — I —

      "Do you give in?"

      "Yes."

      "Then keep still. Sam, guard him, will you? I want to see how matters are on deck."

      "Yes, I'll guard him," answered the youngest Rover.

      The fight on deck had been short and fierce, but our friends had had the best of it from the very start, and when Dick came up he found but little for him to do. Arnold Baxter lay where he had fallen, moaning piteously, while Buddy Girk and Bill Goss were in irons. Mrs. Goss still stood at bay, flourishing her stewpan over her head, while Mumps remained at a distance, his arms folded over his breast and an anxious look in his eyes.

      "I won't go to prison!" shrieked Mrs. Goss. "You let me and my husband go."

      "Mrs. Goss, you had best give in — " began Sergeant Brown, when Tom, sneaking up behind her, snatched the stewpan from her grasp. As she turned on the boy, Carter ran in, and in a twinkle she was held and her hands were bound behind her. Then the crowd turned to Mumps.

      "I submit," said the misguided boy. "Didn't I tell you in the note that I would help you?"

      "Yes, he has tried to do better,"

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