owever, the life-saving captain took charge
confidently enough. His crew began to struggle out the pier, while
volunteers, under his personal direction, manipulated the reel.

A number of the curious lingered about the SPRITE. Marsh and Orde were
in consultation over the smashed stern, and did not look as though they
cared to be disturbed. Harvey leaned out his little square door.

"Don' know nuffin 'bout it," said he, "'ceptin' she done rolled 'way
over 'bout foh times. Yass she did, suh! I know. I felt her doin' it."

"No," he answered a query. "I wasn't what you-all would call scairt,
that is, not really SCAIRT--jess a little ne'vous. All I had to do was
to feed her slabs and listen foh my bell. You see, Cap'n Ma'sh, he was
in cha'ge."

"No, sir," Captain Marsh was saying emphatically to his employer.
"I can't figure it out except on one thing. You see it's stove from
UNDERNEATH. A sea would have smashed it from above."

"Perhaps you grounded in between seas out there," suggested Orde.

Marsh smiled grimly.

"I reckon I'd have known it," said he. "No, sir! It sounds wild, but
it's the only possible guess. That last sea must've lifted us bodily
right over the corner of the pier."

"Well--maybe," assented Orde doubtfully.

"Sure thing," repeated Marsh with conviction.

"Well, you'd better not tell 'em so unless you want to rank in with Old
Man Ananias," ended Orde. "It was a good job. Pretty dusty out there,
wasn't it?"

"Pretty dusty," grinned Marsh.

They turned away together and were at once pounced on by Leopold Lincoln
Bunn, the local reporter, a callow youth aflame with the chance for a
big story of more than local interest.

"Oh, Captain Marsh!" he cried. "How did you get around the pier? It
looked as though the wave had you caught."

Orde glanced at his companion in curiosity.

"On roller skates," replied Marsh.

Leopold tittered nervously.

"Could you tell me how you felt when you were out there in the worst of
it?" he inquired.

"Oh, hell!" said Marsh grumpily, stalking away.

"Don't interview for a cent, does he?" grinned Orde.

"Oh, Mr. Orde! Perhaps you--"

"Don't you think we'd better lend a hand below?" suggested Orde,
pointing to the beach.

The wild and picturesque work of rescue was under way. The line had
been successfully brought to the left of the lighthouse. To it had been
attached the rope, and to that the heavy cable. These the crew of the
schooner had dragged out an