brought any."

"There you go again. Always thinking of that precious tummy of yours,"
cried Hiram. "A little starving won't hurt you."

"Huh, just because you look like a human bean pole, you don't think
anyone has a right to be fat. You're jealous, that's what you are," was
the indignant reply of the fat youth.

Under other conditions there might have ensued a rough and tumble
battle; but just at this instant, through the fog, there came the
booming sound of a vessel's whistle.

"Waugh-gh-gh-gh!"

The long bellow sounded through the white, all-enveloping mist
surrounding the old hulk and its young company of castaways.

"That's the _Seneca's_ whistle," exclaimed the ensign anxiously. "She's
calling for us."

"Gee! She must know that we can't come to her," exclaimed Paul Perkins.

"I guess she's 'standing by' till the fog lifts," rejoined the officer.
"We'll release the bell. That may help to locate us."

But instead of standing by, it became apparent, before long, that the
_Seneca_ was cruising about. The reason for supposing this was that the
next time they heard the hoot of the siren it sounded much further off.

The boys exchanged glances.

"How long do these fogs last, as a rule?" enquired Merritt.

"Impossible to say!" was the quick reply, with an anxious look about.
"If only we could get a slant of wind!"

But there was not a breath stirring. Only the _Good Hope_ swung to the
soft swells, lifting and falling with a hopeless, helpless sort of
motion. In fact, an experienced seaman could have told her waterlogged
condition by the very "heft and heave" of her, which was sluggish to a
degree.

"Well, I suppose we must make up our minds to spend some time here,"
said Rob, with another attempt to treat the matter lightly. "Goodness,
our adventures are surely beginning early this trip!"

The others could not help but agree with the young leader of the Eagles,
although they could hardly foresee the still more thrilling experiences
that lay just ahead of them.

"I would suggest," began the ensign presently, "I would suggest that we
search for some trace of food."

"Humph; mouldy ship's biscuits!" grunted Tubby half under his breath.
"Even if there are any on board, they must be rotten by this time. This
is a fine fix! Maybe we won't get any supper at all," and the fat boy
looked positively tragic over the dire prospect.

But although Tubby had spoken in a low tone, more to himself than to
anybody el