"We'll move in toward the shore somewhat, and wait for the fog to sweep away. When that happens perhaps we can get our bearings, and find out whether we've passed our first intended refuge or not," returned Frank.
"But you think we have?" queried Bluff.
"Yes; and consequently, as we don't want to turn around and go back, we might as well head for the second harbor."
"What sort of a place is that?" asked Bluff, always seeking information.
"As near as I can make out from the chart, it is a lagoon formed by a long island that stands as a shelter between the open gulf and the shore. There are many such along the gulf coast, and small vessels are in the habit of running behind them when the weather outside gets stormy."
"Hear! hear! Frank's already showing signs of becoming a real old salt.
Look there, fellows! Oh! it's gone, now!" cried Jerry, pointing.
"I had just a glimpse of it. That was land, all right, Jerry; and perhaps we'd better alter our course a bit now, heading due east so as to skirt along about this distance out."
So saying, Frank gave the wheel a little whirl, and the motor-boat, in response, curved gracefully a few points to the starboard.
"Don't she run like a duck?" said Bluff enthusiastically.
"There's the land again, boys! No question but what the fog is being driven off by the wind," remarked Frank.