ine passed the scouts on
the last mile of the course!

"By Jiminy, it's a new record or I'll-- Oh mercy! Look! Look! She'll
be killed!"

The scouts stood transfixed with horror. Up the beach in the very path
of the flying motor stood little May Herrick, clutching a red rubber ball
in her hand and looking at the coming machine with horror written in
every line of her childish face.

The whole situation was clear. The tot had dropped her ball, which had
rolled out onto the sloping beach. With her mind only on rescuing the
plaything, she had pulled herself out of her nurse's grasp and run out
onto the race course. And then when she found herself in the path of
certain death she had become panic-stricken.

Dan Dacy's heart must have leapt to his throat when he saw the little one
in his way. But if it did it in no way affected his nerve. He knew that
to turn the steering wheel but an inch meant certain destruction to the
careening car and a broken neck for himself perhaps. Yet he braved this
hideous fate and wrenched at the steering gear.

There was a terrific roar, a crash of shattered metal and in a cloud of
sand the big gray racer turned abruptly and plunged end over end down the
beach into the curling breakers. The crowd gave vent to a shriek of
alarm when they saw Dan Dacy's limp form shoot clear of the wreck and go
whirling, arms and legs flying out toward the point where the combers
were breaking.

Like every one of the five thousand witnesses of the tragedy, the scouts
stood paralyzed for a moment--but only for a moment--Bruce was the first
to gather his scattered wits.

"Quick, Jiminy! We'll get him! Come! He may still be alive! The rest
of you fellows follow on foot!"

While he was speaking, Bruce rushed into the station and started the
motor cycle. Jiminy was right behind him and an instant later the
powerful machine was making forty miles an hour over the sandy beach.
Bruce bent low over the handle bars while Jiminy clung on and sought to
buckle the life buoy belt about his waist.

When the machine reached the wrecked motor car Bruce brought it to an
abrupt stop. But already Jimmy had leaped from the machine and plunged
into the water. With powerful overhand strokes he breasted the breakers.
He seemed to shoot through the water, so mighty were his efforts.

Thirty feet out he saw something bobbing upon the surface of the water.
It was Dacy's leather helmet. Toward this Jiminy headed