"Yah! I dresses dot sea-bug all right!" exclaimed the cook with a grin. "I knows how to fix dem!"
The lobsterman started his gasolene engine, and "put-putted" off through the fog, seeming to get his bearings instinctively. He called a good-by, and once more started his fog-horn song.
"Well, I wish we'd meet such mermaids every day in the week," commented Paul Drew, as he looked at the pile of lobsters on deck, for he, too, was very fond of them.
The Albatross, which had been hove to on meeting the small craft, was once more sent slowly forward. The fog lifted about two hours later, and the speed was increased. There was a fine supper aboard Dick's yacht that night, and even the crew had lobster salad, as a sort of side dish with their pork and beans.
"We'll be at Savannah to-morrow," announced Captain Barton one afternoon—a glorious, sunny afternoon, when Dick and the boys were sitting about the deck in steamer chairs. "Do you think your friend, Mr. Beeby, will meet you there, Captain Hamilton?"
"I don't know," answered Dick. "You never can tell what Innis Beeby will do. He's always changing his mind at the last moment, and he's so fat that it doesn't worry him."
"Nothing does," said Paul. "I hardly think he'll join us, though."
"Well, we'll put in and see," decided the lad of millions.
At Savannah, when the yacht had docked, Dick found a telegram awaiting him from his chum, Beeby. It read: