Lost in the Fog

by James De Mille

"Not till to-morrow mornin."

"How early?"

"Not before eight o'clock."

"Eight o'clock!" cried Arthur, in horror.

"Yes, eight o'clock. You see we had to come in pooty nigh to the shore, an it'll be eight o'clock before we're floated."

"And what'll become of poor Tom?" groaned Arthur.

"Wal," said the captain, "don't look on the wust. He may get ashore."

"He has no oar. The oar was thrown aboard of the schooner."

"Still he may be carried ashore."

"Is there any chance?"