d Light, and lapping the low cabin floor. On the brave life-savers
came, while Rex and Roy barked in mad welcome; and Freddy's clear, boyish
cry, "Here,--here! Daddy and I are here!" pierced through the darkness and
turmoil of the storm. On they came, strong and fearless,--God's angels
surely, thought Freddy, though in strange mortal guise. And one, whose
muffling sou'wester had been flung loose in his eager haste, led all the
rest.

"Here, my men,--here!" he cried, bursting into the ruined hut, where a
little figure stood, white-faced, breathless, bewildered with the joy of
his answered prayer. "They are here! God have mercy!" broke in reverent
awe from his lips. "Freddy, Freddy,--my own little Freddy here!"

"Uncle Tom,--Uncle Tom!" And Freddy sobbed outright as he was clasped in
those dear, strong arms, held tight to the loving heart. "How did God tell
you where to come for me, dear Uncle Tom?--Daddy, daddy look up,--look up!
It's Uncle Tom!"

And what daddy felt as he looked up into that old friend's face, what
Uncle Tom felt as he looked down on the "derelict" that had drifted so far
from him, no one can say; for there was no time for words or wonderment.
Life-savers can not stop to think, much less to talk. Daddy was caught up
by two or three big fellows, without any question, while Uncle Tom looked
out for Freddy.

It was a fierce struggle, through surging waves and battering wind and
beating rain, to the waiting lifeboats; but, held tight in those strong
arms, pressed close to the true heart whose every pulse was a prayer,
Freddy felt no fear. Even when the stout boat, fighting its way back to
the other shore, tossed like a cork in the breakers, when the oar snapped
in Blake's hand, when all around was foam and spray, in which earth and
heaven seemed lost, Freddy, nestling in Uncle Tom's sou'wester, felt as if
its rough, tarry folds were angel wings.

And so safety and shelter were reached at last. Father Tom gave his little
drenched, shivering, white-faced boy into Ford's friendly care.

"Put him to bed somewhere, to get dry and warm."

"But daddy,--my own dear, lost daddy?"

"Leave him to me, my boy," said Uncle Tom, softly. "I'll take care of
daddy. Leave him to me."

And then Ford, who, somewhere back of Cape Cod, had a small boy of his
own, proceeded to do his rough best for the little stranger. Freddy was
dried, rubbed, and put into a flannel shirt some ten sizes too big for
him, and given someth