Sam's always careful about international
law. But the Italian maritime laws are very strict, and if he's sent
back to Italy, I'm sorry for him."

For the next two months, little of adventurous importance occurred. The
_Miami_ disposed of several more dangerous derelicts in the gulf of
Mexico. She assisted a small steamer belonging to the Public Health
Service of Key West, which had anchored in an exposed position, and
towed her to safe moorings. She rescued two men in a small motor boat,
out of sight of land, who had drifted after the machinery had broken
down. In addition to this, she floated and towed to harbor three
sailing-vessels which had struck on the treacherous reefs of the waters
of the Florida Keys. The work was constant, and the Coast Guard cutter
was on the job without ceasing, but there was little to stir the
complement to their utmost.

Then came trouble. From the wireless station,--that continuous recorder
of difficulty and disaster, came word that a Norwegian steamer was
ashore on Twisted Cay, and asking for immediate assistance against
native wreckers. The _Miami_ immediately started for the scene of the
disaster, and about noon of the next day arrived in sight of the
vessel.

"They've been having trouble of some sort," said Eric, as the cutter
steamed up to the scene of the wreck. "And look at the nerve of them;
they don't seem to pay any attention to us!"

The boats' crews were ordered out, and Eric, as before, was in the
smaller craft. The two boats pulled to the side of the vessel, and the
boy accompanied the second lieutenant on board. The steamer was lying
with her head to the southward and westward, with a decided list to
starboard. Twenty or thirty small sailing-boats were clustered round
her, like ants round a piece of sugar. What was still more daring, while
most of the wreckers had left the stranded steamer on the arrival of the
cutter, others actually stayed on board. They were an evil-looking lot,
and heavily armed.

The scene on board was a striking one. The first thing noticed by Eric
was the presence of two men propped up against the starboard rail, pale
and roughly bandaged.

"Where's the captain?" was the lieutenant's first question.

"I'm Captain Jorgsen," was the reply, as a finely built, ruddy
middle-aged man advanced. "Glad to see you on board."

"Good morning, Captain. You reported by wireless having trouble with
these wreckers," the Coast Guard officer remarked; "are t