"In his room," was the curt reply.
"What's the matter with him?"
The mate made a significant gesture of turning his hand up at his mouth.
Evan whistled noiselessly. "Has he been that way all day?"
"No, he took a dram when the crash came to steady his nerves."
"Well, let him be," said Evan. "What chance have we of being picked up here?"
"Not very good," said the mate. "We're on the flats inside the Hook. Few small vessels come down here, and a big vessel couldn't come to us even if she heard us. I'm afraid it's a case of wait till the fog lifts."
"We can't keep this gang out all night," said Evan. "That's flat."
"What do you propose?"
"Somebody must go ashore in a boat to telephone for a tug."