e, in a low voice, to
his chum. "That is the best ever! It's the first time he hasn't
predicted a calamity."

"And just when anyone else would," added Blake. "For it sure is going to
be hard work to save anyone from a vessel that comes ashore in such a
storm as this," and he looked toward the tumbling billows in view from
the windows.

Films were threaded into the moving picture cameras, the mechanism was
tested, and then the whole company, even to the ladies, set forth.

"I hope the wreck gets near enough so we can get some good pictures of
it," said Mr. Ringold.

"It'll have to come pretty well in shore, or the breeches buoy rope
won't reach," said Mr. Hadley. "I guess we can get some good pictures."

"It's good it doesn't rain," went on the theatrical man; "though I think
it's going to, soon. We'll have to get up on some elevation to avoid the
spray."

Down the beach they made their way, to be joined presently by the band
of sturdy fishermen.

"There she is!" cried old Abe, as he pointed out to sea. "There she is,
blowing and drifting in fast. And right toward the Dolphin Rocks,
too--the worst place on the beach!" They all gazed toward the doomed
vessel, that was now much nearer shore. Blake even thought he could
descry figures on deck, clinging to the stumps of masts.

CHAPTER XXIV

OUT OF THE WRECK

"Here come the life savers!" cried Blake a little later, as through the
spray that flew over the beach a party of men, in yellow oilskins, could
be seen dragging something over the sand.

"Yes, and few enough of 'em there are to do the work," said old Abe
Haskill. "The government ought to put more men at the station."

"Some were hurt, trying to launch the boat this morning," said Joe.

"Very likely," agreed the old fisherman. "The sea can be cruel when it
wants to."

"And there comes Tom Cardiff!" added Blake, as he pointed to another
oncoming figure.

"Yes, and Harry Stanton is with him," remarked Abe. "They must have left
the lighthouse to look after itself, and they're going to help in the
rescue."

"No danger to the light, now that them pesky wreckers have been caught,"
remarked one of the fishermen.

"Boom!" came a dull report over the waste of tumultuous waters.

"What's that?" asked Blake.

"The signal gun!" cried Abe. "She must be sinking and they want us to
hurry help. But she's too far out yet for a line to reach her."

Again the signal gun sounded, and hearing it, the life