The thing I most fear is that some of them may have been hurled overboard, just as we were, and were not lucky enough to find anything to sustain them.

But I shall not believe anything of the kind as long as I can hope that it isn't so." But for Merriwell, Hodge would have been very despondent, especially as the long hours of the afternoon began to wear on and no boat came near them, and their frequent cries seemed to remain unheard; but Frank's hopefulness and cheerful optimism were not without good effect on the mind of his friend, and they were even able at times to talk with some degree of mental comfort.
Frank was sure that they were steadily drifting out to sea.

He believed, from the change in the apparent direction of the fog-siren, that they were moving down the coast toward Sandy Hook.

But they were evidently floating farther out to sea, for the sounds of the siren were fainter and farther away.
"I believe the fog is going to lighten." Merriwell lifted himself and strained his eyes through the gloom.

A suggestion of a breeze had fanned him.
"If the wind gets up, the fog may be driven away," he said.
"And the wind will kick up a sea!" suggested Bart.
"But if the fog lifts, we will probably be seen by some vessel!" There could be no doubt that a gentle breeze was beginning to blow.
"Sure enough, the fog is thinning!" Bart cried joyfully.