"About," answered Tom a little doubtfully, "but I'm afraid it's going to be hard to locate it in this fog."
"There's a compass in my coat pocket," said Mr. Duncan. "Take it out and I'll tell you how to steer. You ought to carry a compass if you're going to be a sailor."
Tom was beginning to think so himself and wondered that he had not thought of it before. He found the one the hunter had, and placing it on the seat near him, he carefully listened to the wounded man's directions. Tom easily comprehended and soon had the boat headed in the proper direction. After that it was comparatively easy to keep on the right course, even in the fog.
But there was another danger, however, and this was that he might run into another boat. True, there were not many on Lake Carlopa, but there were some, and one of the few motor-boats might be out in spite of the bad weather.
"Guess I'll not run at full speed," decided Tom. "I wouldn't like to crash into the Red Streak. We'd both sink."
So he did not run his motor at the limit and sat at the steering-wheel, peering ahead into the fog for the first sight of another craft.
He turned to look at Mr. Duncan and was alarmed at the pallor of his face. The man's eyes
