"Just the same, I wish they had waited for us," said Mr. Dacre with a slight frown.
"Oh, they'll be waiting for us when we get there," declared Bill confidently, and no more was said.
But when the steamer's boat reached the dock, no dory was there. Nor had any of the loungers hanging about seen one.
"Maybe they've got into another channel and gone down Wolf Island way," suggested Bill, looking rather grave. "Don't you worry, sir, they'll be along."
"Well, if an Aleut can do anything pig-headed and plum foolish, that's what he's a-goin' to do," opined the dock superintendent, who knew the facts in the case.
"I'd suggest we get up to the store with these goods," said Bill, "and by the time we're through that dory'll be here."
"But it should have reached here long ago," said Mr. Dacre. "I tell you, Rainier, I don't half like the look of this."
"No harm can come to 'em," Bill assured him.
But nevertheless, for some time both men stood motionless, with lips compressed, staring out into the blanket of fog without exchanging speech.
In the meantime, the dory was being rowed through the fog by the two stolid natives without the boys suspecting in the least that anything was wrong. As a matter of fact, the two natives, for reasons apparent to those who know the native Aleut, had decided to take a short cut through a passage behind Wolf Island. But the fog had shut in thicker now and they were not at all sure of their bearings, skilled boatmen though they were. They rowed stolidly on and on through the dripping mist without speaking.