Then as they floundered about, he heard the distant, muffled bellow of a big ship’s foghorn. Again it sounded; and twice more, each time coming closer. Bill started the engine and headed cautiously out in the direction from whence it came.
Suddenly there sounded a blast startlingly close to the Mary Jane. This was answered from the lightship, and through the flying scud and sleet they saw a vivid glare. Bill put his helm hard over and when the steamer had passed about four hundred yards away, he turned the motor boat again to cut across the liner’s wake. Faint streams of music reached their ears emphasizing the dreariness of their position.
Directly they were astern of the great ship, he swung the Mary Jane into the steamer’s course. Running straight before the wind, it was easy to follow the sudsy brine that eddied in her wake. He was by no means certain, however, that he could keep the dull glow of her taffrail light in sight. That depended upon the liner’s speed, which might be more than the Mary Jane could develop. But he soon discovered he had either underestimated the power of the motor boat or, what was more probable, the steamer had reduced her own. Before long he was obliged to slow down to keep from overhauling.
And so for nearly an hour they tagged along, astern, keeping a sharp lookout on the band of swirling water. Little by little their spirits sank, as no floating object appeared to reward their perseverance. The weather was becoming worse and worse, but the sea was not troublesome; partly because the Mary Jane was running before it and partly because the great bulk of the liner ahead flattened it out in her displacement.
“If this keeps on much longer, we’re going to run short of gas,” said Dorothy, still peering ahead. “Any idea how long it will keep up?”
Bill shrugged and swung the boat’s head over a point.
“Not the dimmest. I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll have to follow her all the way to the pilot station and then cut across for Gravesend Bay.”
“We’ll sure be out of luck if we run out of fuel with this wind backing into the northwest. It will blow us clean out to sea!”
“Take the wheel!” said Bill abruptly. “I’m going to see where we stand.”
Dorothy, with her hands on the spokes, saw him measure the gasoline in the tank and then shake his head.