sn't get very rough!" cried Mrs. Stanhope. "I
detest a heavy storm at sea."

"Well, mamma, we'll have to expect some storms," said Dora.

"Oh, I shan't mind, if it doesn't thunder and lightning and blow too
much."

But this storm was not of the thunder and lightning variety, nor did it
blow to any extent. It grew damp and foggy, and then a mist came down
over the ocean, shutting out the view upon every side. At once the
engine of the steam yacht was slowed down, and a double lookout was
stationed at the bow, while the whistle was blown at regular intervals.

"This isn't so pleasant," remarked Songbird, as he and Dick tramped
along the deck in their raincoats. "Ugh! what a nasty night it is!"

"No poetry about this, is there, Songbird?" returned Dick, grimly.

"Hardly," said the poet, yet a few minutes later he began softly:

"A dreadful fog came out of the sea,
And made it as misty as it could be.
The deck was wet, the air was damp----"

"It was bad enough to give you a cramp!" finished up Tom, who had come
up. "Beautiful weather for drying clothes or taking pictures," he went
on. "By the way, I haven't used my new camera yet. I must get it out as
soon as the sun shines again."

"And I must get out my camera," said Songbird. "I have a five by seven
and I hope to take some very nice pictures when we get down among the
islands."

"How do ye like this sea fog?" asked a voice at the boys' rear, and
Bahama Bill appeared, wrapped in an oilskin jacket. "It puts me in mind
of a fog I onct struck off the coast o' Lower Californy. We was in it
fer four days an' it was so thick ye could cut it with a cheese knife.
Why, sir, one day it got so thick the sailors went to the bow an'
caught it in their hands, jess like that!" He made a grab at the air.
"The captain had his little daughter aboard an' the gal went out on
deck an' got lost an' we had to feel around in that fog nearly an hour
afore we found her, an' then, sure as I'm a-standin' here, she was next
to drowned an' had to be treated jess like she had been under water."

"How long ago was that?" asked Tom, poking the other boys in the ribs.

"Seven years ago, this very summer."

"I thought so, Bill, for that very summer I was at Fort Nosuch, in
Lower California. I remember that fog well. One of the walls of the
fort had fallen down and the commander was afraid the desperadoes were
going to attack him. So he had the soldiers go out, gather in the fog,