sort of
whitish drift--it looks like cotton--on the horizon?"

Jess leaned forward and addressed Jimsy.

"You've got me guessing," rejoined that slangy young person.

"Ask Peggy."

"No, I don't want to bother her now. She's got her hands full, I fancy."

The _Golden Butterfly_ was swinging steadily onward above a sparkling sea.
The slight haze perceptible from the land was not noticeable to the air
voyagers. Below them a four-masted schooner was tacking in the light wind.
Closer in shore lay several grim looking battleships and cruisers. In
their leaden colored "war paint" they looked menacing and bulldoggish.

Far off, a mere speck, could be seen a dim and indistinct object pointing
upward from the cape like a finger. They guessed it was the light for
which they were aiming. Peggy's last glance at the compass had confirmed
this guess.

Jimsy looked about him. About a quarter of a mile off, and slightly ahead
was the _Cobweb_. The silvery aeroplane was rushing through the atmosphere
at a great rate. But profiting by Mortlake's experience, Fanning was
evidently not speeding the 'plane to its fullest capacity.

On the other side was a large red biplane flying steadily and keeping
about level with the _Golden Butterfly_. Far behind lagged a monoplane.
The other contestants had dropped out of the race. They were so manifestly
out of it that their drivers did not care to continue.

A glance at the speedometer showed Peggy's two passengers that they were
reeling off fifty-five miles an hour. The _Cobweb_ was doing slightly
better.

"We should round the light in a few minutes now," said Jimsy scrutinizing
his watch anxiously.

"Will they report us?" asked Jess.

"Yes. There is a wireless rigged up there. The minute we round it on our
return trip word will be flashed back to the starting point."

Silently they sat counting the minutes roll by. All at once Jimsy noticed
that the air had become strangely damp and moist. He looked up. He could
not refrain a cry of astonishment as he did so. The _Golden Butterfly_ was
enveloped in a damp, steamy sort of smother. The _Cobweb_ had been blotted
out and so had the other aeroplanes.

"Fog," he exclaimed. "What a bit of bad luck."

"It's just as bad for the others," Peggy reminded him.

"Have you got your course?" asked Jess anxiously.

"Yes. Almost due east. But in this dense mist it will be hard to come
close enough to the lighthouse to be reported without the dange