a wreck, wouldn't it? Hullo!" exclaimed John Fisher, stopping in
his explanation, "What's that? If that aint the crittur hisself!"

As the patrolman turned his face to the sea, the boys looked off in that
direction, and they were quick enough to see a rocket exploding in the
air, scattering down a shower of tinted stars. This bright constellation
faded away into the night, when suddenly up, up into the darkness, shot
two vivid lines of fire, parting as they swept higher and higher,
exploding in stars till the whole seemed like immense forks of gold with
spreading, jeweled prongs.

"They let go a couple then," said Will.

"O look, Tony!" cried Charlie.

While the boys were watching the rockets, John Fisher was eagerly handling
his Coston light. The design of this is to signal to any wreck, or to warn
vessels away from an unsafe shore. John now ignited his light and, holding
it up, ran along the beach. His big, burly form wrapped in a coarse, heavy
suit, threw an immense shadow on the sands, while the light of his torch
so colored the beach that he seemed to be trampling on red snow. The foam
of the waves, broken into patches, changed till it became clots of blood.
Beyond all, was that wrathful, howling, restless ocean. Away ran John
Fisher, swinging his light, flinging out his big boots till he looked like
a sea-monster, with unwieldy limbs, plunging through an atmosphere
blood-tinged. At the station they had evidently become aware of the real
situation of things, for there was a moving of lamps at the windows, then
the opening of a door letting out a bright light. As Will and the boys
reached the station, they saw the big door in one end of the building
swinging back, and out rushed two men pulling a cart. John Fisher here
came running up.

"Wreck is down at Gull's P'int," he said, "so some one told me, and that
agrees with the place where the signals were seen. I guess she is on the
nub of the P'int, and our wreck-gun will reach her."

"What is a wreck-gun?" Charlie wanted to ask, but every body seemed too
busy to answer questions.

"It will be morning soon," exclaimed Will. "I fancy I see a whitish streak
now in the east."

Charlie was not looking at the sky, but, standing on his longest toe, was
trying to get a peep into that mysterious cart dragged from the station. A
man now stood on the axle and lighted a lamp on a pole. The lamp was
inclosed so that the storm could not harm it. Charlie saw a stout reel in