"
Monk snorted, and grumbled over his food throughout the remainder of
the meal; but later, coming upon a group composed of Liane Delorme,
Lanyard and Phinuit, in the saloon, he paused, looked this way and that
to make sure none of the stewards was within eavesdropping distance,
and graciously unbent a little.
"I'm making the best time we can while we can see at all," he
volunteered. "No telling when this misbegotten fog will close in and
force us to slow down to half-speed or less--in crowded waters, too!"
"And very sensible, I'm sure," Phinuit agreed heartily. "Whatever
happens, we musn't be late for our date with Friend Boss, must we?"
"We'll keep it," Monk promised grimly, "if we have to feel every inch
of our way in with the lead. I don't mind telling you, this fog may
save our skins at that. Wireless has been picking up chatter all
morning between a regular school of revenue cutters patrolling this
coast on the lookout for just such idiots as we are. So we'll carry on
and trust to luck till we make Monk Harbour or break our fool necks."
Liane Delorme gave a start of dismay.
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