"Back on our course. She came along through the fog like a thief, without signaling. If my first mate hadn't been in the bow at the moment, and able to pass the order back like lightning, that infernal steam yacht would have sunk us."
"How far away do you think the 'Victor' is now?" Tom demanded.
"At a good guess, say twelve miles ahead of you, on a pretty straight course for the Golden Gate."
"Thank you, Captain!"
"You're welcome."
As the schooner yacht's sails filled, and she bore away on her course, a dozen people on the "Panther's" deck let up a wild cheer.
"Fog or no fog, we'll catch up with the 'Victor' if we have luck," declared Captain Tom Halstead. Then his face took on a troubled look.
"I forgot," he muttered. "The captain of the 'Victor' will hear our fog horn, and—oh, confound a fog-horn on a chase like this!"
"Perhaps this is where a lawyer can help you out," smiled Mr. Jephson. "You're now a dozen miles behind the 'Victor.' Well, Captain, if you tone down your fog-horn so that it can't be heard for more than half or three quarters of a mile, it will still make noise enough to warn any innocent craft out of your path. Can't you tone down the horn?"