The Long Island Huntsman.
The Long Island Huntsman.The November mist had settled heavily upon the East River; and when they ran out into it, they could hear the foghorns and bells being tooted and rung all about them.
“A bad night for making out any craft,” remarked the owner of the power-boat. “We can’t see more than a dozen feet on any side of us.”
The man who attended to the engine suddenly lifted his head.
“There goes the Piedmont,” said he.
Piedmont“Well, if you can see her, you’ve got mighty good sight,” laughed Webster.
“I sure would,” returned the man. “But I don’t see her. I hear her. Listen!”
There was a continuous, snuffling, gasping sound ahead, and the steady thump of an engine.
“I could tell that exhaust of hers anywhere,” explained the engineer. “It’s the worst on th
