CHAPTER XXII.
ADRIFT IN THE ATLANTIC.
"So thick you might cut it with a knife!" Captain Darien, who had walked forward and joined the group of Merriwell's friends, looked off into the wall of gloom as he said this.
The _Merry Seas_ was mournfully blowing her whistle, and others were continually heard.

The steamer was nearing New York harbor.
"Will you try to run in, captain ?" Frank asked.
"Oh I think we can make it.

I don't like to anchor out here all night.

I have a pretty good idea of just where we are." "The fog may lift before night." The captain looked at his watch, and saw that it indicated nearly three o'clock.
"I'm afraid not.

And likely it will be no better in the morning.