Jasper County Democrat, Volume 14, Number 64, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 November 1911 — IN THE FOG [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

IN THE FOG

By Jean Dickerson

The harbor of the gay tittle summer resort was Oiled with pleasure boats of every description when the fog suddenly rolled in from the ocean and blotted out every sight and Stilled every sound of laughter. The chug-chugging of motor boats ceased abruptly; sails rattled down as they were hastily reefed; anchors plunked overboard; and there arose the unmelodious din of fog horns, bells, sirens and lusty shouts of warning. The fog settled down thickly until one could scarcely see a hand’s breadth ahead. Each person appeared Isolated from his companion; voices lost their identity and came weird and shrill or booming and low-pitched, always startling and unexpected even from companions in the same craft A fog bell from tbe lighthouse tolled dismally and from Island Point another bell sounded warningly. Vera Gale, alone In a frail canoe, was thoroughly frightened. An hour ago It bad been amusing to set out In her pretty green canoe and paddle around the harbor, perhaps calling at some yacht for a few brief words with friends or skirting the sandy shore exchanging merry badinage with the bathers or campers—all of them were friends of Vera Gale. Just as she had skimmed near an incoming excursion steamer and avoided a luxuriously appointed motor boat—when she was surrounded on every side by boats larger and heavier than her own frail craft —the fog shut down and she was helpless. Once sha paddled desperately toward the point where she was sure there was safe landing but she found herself under the bow of the big steamer which had anchored there and a rough voice warned her away. Then she bumped Into a smaller boat and somebody swore inelegantly at her and she found herself apologizing meekly for the intrusion. As she

finished speaking there came from the fog close beside her a man’s voice. Vera was glad it was a pleasant voice —it sounded so near. “Pardon me, madam, but are you alone in a boat?" “Yes —I have a canoe," was Vera’s reply. “A dangerous craft in this mix-up,” went On the voice. “Can you swim?” "Yes—do you think there is any danger?" Vera was growing anxious. “Most assuredly there is danger if that steamer stirs before the fog lifts. I have a large boat here and there is plenty of room if you care to come aboard. We can have a line out to the canoe." ‘Thank you Very much, perhaps I had better. I’ve been frightened to I death for the last fifteen minutes,” said Vera. “It’s mere guesswork where you are —tell me if I lay hands on your canoe.” There followed a few moments during which Vera knew her new acquaintance must be feeling around for her canoe and with another dip of her paddle she endeavored to draw closer to the sound of his voice. Her effort was successful for almost instantly something —a hand —grasped her rail and the voice sounded in her ear. “Got you!” cried the voice triumphantly. ’

“Yes,” answered Vera excitedly. “Steady he pulled the frail craft gently toward him until it bumped against the larger boat and bobbed unsteadily. “Now, give me your hand, please—place the other on my shoulder and step over —don’t be afraid, there’s a locker to stand on.” Vera’s hand was grasped in a large strong wet one and obediently her other went out to find his shoulder. To her infinite embarrassment it first brushed a shaven cheek, then awkwardly grasped at a shock of thick hair and ended on a rough, woolen shoulder. “Oh, I beg pardon!” she gasped as her hand found a resting place. He relieved her by speaking of her canoe as he almost lifted her to a seat with one strong arm even as he held onto her craft with the other. She couldn’t see his face and his figure was merely a dark blnr in the fog. “There, Til have a line out to the

canoe and 700 can feel Quite easy about it. Here are your paddlee—Just throw them down anywhere. Now. If /ouTl just slide a little further around you can manipulate this siren and I’ll give my entire attention to the engine in case we Jiave to cut and run at short notice.” “Where is the siren?” asked Vera as she groped about with her bands. “Give me your hand —there, feel that lever?” “Oh, yes—l thought it was the squeegee kind,” said Vera as she pulled at the lever and then almost screamed at the loud “800-oo!” that followed. "My own invention —that lever," chuckle,. the voice. “Great, isn’t it?” “Fine —it’s very loud,” admitted Vera. "How often shall I sound it?” “Whenever the other fellows stop,” he laughed. “There are so many of them the sounds lap over one another," commented Vera as she managed to gel in another alarming “800-oo!" Again her fellow passenger laughed and his voice had a ring of familiarity. It was very baffling to sit there so close to him and not know what he looked like —who he was —or anything about him. It was very romantic, too, but Vera was not thinking of that somehow, for there was such a babel of sounds about her that all she could think of was that if she really knew who this man was she might feel more confidence in his ability to protect her from the excursion steamer that was their greatest menace. So far her rescuer had proved himself to be quite at home in his motor boat; he was strong and cool-headed and he was entirely practical and impersonal. All those thlngß counted In his favor with Vera Gale. Suppose the excursion steamer did run them down would he be the sort to save her or would he let her go? Vera received an answer to that question with startling swiftness. From another direction there came a medley of sounds —a tooting, blowing, pounding of a steamer’s screw and then out of the fog astern there loomed a dark shape and before Vera’s frightened lips could utter a sound, her new acquaintance leaned forward, a gigantic form in the mist, and grasping her in his arms stepped overboard into the bay while the puffing steam tug sen* his boat with the dangling canoe straight to the bottom of the harbor where it was not recovered for many a day. The man and the girl went down and then up again, miraculously escaping arising under any one of the craft that surrounded them. Vera’s companion held her closely with one arm and with the other he stroked vigorously to keep them afloat. Presently Vera recovered her wits sufficently to strike out with her free arm.

“Bravo!” he panted when he found that she, too, was swimming. Then, amid the shouting and whistling and screeching about .them, his voice arose. "Boat ahoy—two in the water!” he yelled. After that there was danger of their being run over by rescuers but all at once he shouted joyfully that he had found something, and then friendly hands pulled them over into an open boat and only then did the man give up the girl he had rescued. “If —it —hadn’t been—for you-u-u—l w —w —ould ha-have been drowned!” said Vera through chattering teeth. "My c-anoe w-would ha-have gone to the bottom —so w-would L” "It’s at the bottom now and so is mine!” returned the other cheerfully. "Say, mate, have you got anything warm to wrap this lady in?” “Aye—here you are!” and a knitted jacket was tossed from the fog and her new acquaintance, sitting beside her, wrapped Vera In its comforting folds. “How about yourself?” she asked after a little while. , “Oh, never mind me—l’m tough,” was his careless reply. “But say,” earnestly, “you’re plucky, do you know it?” “1 was scared to death,” admitted Vera. “So was I,” he retorted and they both laughed. They sat there side by side. Vera listening to his conversation with the other occupants of the open boat. She was trangely contented and happy. I For some unknown reason she felt 1 that something new had come to her j that afternoon —some new experience ■ that was to color all her after life.

Then all at once the fog lifted. As suddenly as it had enveloped them it whiffed away before a light breeze, showing all the maze of boating in the harbor and everything sprang into renewed life and activity. The two who had spent an hour in the fog. together—who had touched bands—had spoken—had gone down to the gates of death and up again—turned and looked at each other. “Allen Cramer,” cried Vera breathlessly. “Vera Gale!” he cried equally astonished, and then these two who had known each other all their lives and never dreamed of falling, in love felt a strange sweet embarrassment creeping over them. • "It seems like stepping into a new world —after the fog,” said Vera to cover her embarrassment. “It is a new world for me,” said Allen gravely, and his hand closed over hers.

“Are You Alone in a Boat? ”