The silence outside the port-light was shattered by a mournful, stuttering sound. Nell Stanley sat up suddenly on the couch across the stateroom and blinked her eyes.
"Oh, mercy!" she gasped. "There must be a terrible fog."
"Fog?" squealed Amy. "And Jessie was telling me there was a cow aboard. Is that the foghorn? Well, make up your mind, Jess, you'll get no milk from that animal."
SOMETHING SERIOUS
The three girls did not sleep much after that. The grumbling, stuttering notes of the foot-power horn seemed to fill all the air about the Marigold. Darry told them at breakfast that he used this old-fashioned horn on the yacht because it took too much steam if they used the regular horn.
"This is a great old tub," complained Burd, who had spent the previous hour at the device. "She makes only steam enough to blow the horn when you stop the engines. Great! Great!"
"You'd kick if you were going to be hung," observed his chum.