"This yere valve won't work!"
"Oh!" said Angela.
She looked at Thorpe as if seeking from him some word, some sign, of comfort and encouragement. At the same moment she made an instinctive movement towards him. Jim was staring at her, very pale. I saw him half-open his lips and then close them. Frightened as I was, I can swear that Jim was thinking only of his wife and what he could read upon her face. Thorpe was quite impassive, but his fingers were twitching. Then I heard Jim's voice curiously distinct--
"What are you going to do?"
"The valve may work loose. Anyways, she leaks a bit. Guess we're all right."
Once more his confidence diffused itself subtly, and again a phrase shattered it.
"How far is San Lorenzy from the ocean?"
"Eleven miles," said Ajax.
"We're sailin' plumb into the fog."
In late October the sea fog generally begins to roll up about four o'clock. If the breeze is from the land, the fog is kept at bay for an hour or two. As a rule, the breeze fails, and then the fog asserts its dominion over all things on land and sea. Without knowing much of aerial navigation, I grasped the fact that we were being swept into the fog, and that if we intended to descend on land there was not a minute to be lost. Thorpe, I fancy, had arrived at the same conclusion. He said in a queer, high-pitched tone--