"Fog horn," Fred told her cheerfully. "Want to hear it again?"
"It sounds like a calf bawling," said Jess critically. "Let me make it go, Fred."
Larry nodded, and Fred relinquished the rope. Jess jerked it blissfully for a few seconds, and then Artie clamored for the honor.
"The more the merrier," was Larry's comment. "A fog horn is a good thing to keep going a night like this—morning, rather."
The soft white fog had shut down on them again, and the squeak of the little fog horn had a pitiful sound to Polly's sensitive ear.
"It sounds like a little lost boat, doesn't it?" she whispered to Jess. "As if a little boat was out at sea and was afraid."
Suddenly a long drawn-out, hoarse call drifted over the water to them. It sounded far off and yet powerful.
"Gee, that's a steamer, isn't it?" said Fred. "I'll bet that is one of the coastwise boats. Larry, could a boat come along and run us down before we knew it?"
"I wouldn't exactly say that," was Larry's careful response. "But I do know that if any getting out of the way was done, the other fellow would have to do it. As far as navigation is concerned, we're not in business."