er here. Will thinks it may be a boat coming
down on us, full tilt, and liable to grind us to powder."

Frank listened for just three seconds. Then he made a dive for a locker,
as if he thought the situation more or less desperate.

"What's he after?" exclaimed Will, amazed.

"That blooming conch-shell horn of Cousin Archie's. He's going to let
those chaps know there's another boat out here, and that they don't own
the earth, that's what."

And that was just what Frank meant to do. Seizing the conch-shell, from
which the point had been cut, he blew a piercing blast that could have
been heard a mile off. Again and again he sent out the warning sound, and
presently an answering blast came through the dense fog, now swirling
madly with the increasing breeze.

"They're right on us! There! I can just make out the top of a mast!
Frank, they will run us down!" shouted Will, while the other continued
to blow his horn with renewed vim, and the advancing gulf sponger came
plunging straight toward the anchored _Jessamine_! It was a thrilling
moment for the four chums.

CHAPTER XIV

A CRY ACROSS THE LAGOON

"Keep off, there!" shouted Bluff.

"Luff her, you!" howled Jerry.

"Too-oo-t! too-oo-t!"

Will was the only one of the quartet unable to give utterance to his
feelings. He could only cower there, and gape, while the unknown sailing
craft was bearing down straight for the little motor-boat, and apparently
bound to smash her in two.

Those on the sharpie may have been extremely reckless in thus spreading
their canvas to the favoring wind before the fog had lifted enough to
allow a decent lookout, but they had some thought for their own safety,
however little they cared for that of others.

Hearing the clamor dead ahead, the fellow at the tiller managed to
suddenly shift the course of the advancing boat, and just in time. They
swept past the _Jessamine_ with hardly a yard to spare.

The staring and shivering boys caught a glimpse of several rough men on
board the passing sharpie, and what they thought was a girl's head thrust
out of the cabin.

Some loud and vigorous language was carried back to the ears of the chums
as the fleeing sharpie vanished once more in the fog wreaths.

"Talk to me about that!" exclaimed Jerry indignantly. "They nearly run us
down through their own carelessness, and then revile us for getting in
the way!"

"Some people never believe there can be two sides to any question. They