Kendall scrambled over and gripped the rim of the wheel, while Gerald stepped into the cabin and poked around with a long-nosed oil-can. _The Dart_ was headed straight back for Wissining, but there was a good five miles ahead of her and the fog-bank was rolling in fast. Kendall viewed it apprehensively, without realizing just what it meant. It moved toward them steadily, inexorably. At first nearly a mile away, now it was less than half that distance. While he looked a sloop, beating toward Orient Point, grew suddenly faint to view, then disappeared utterly from sight. Gerald came back and took the wheel.