breeches-buoy tackle from being suddenly broken, the _Miami_ had to pay
out cable to keep in bearing. Each fathom of chain slipped brought her
that much nearer to the shoal.

There were thirty men in the _Union's_ crew and every man had been
brought aboard but the captain, when the Coast Guard cutter reached the
edge of the shoal. One minute more would mean success.

At that instant, a savage gust came hurtling in from sea, as though the
hurricane was bound to claim at least one victim. The captain of the
steamer had just thrust one leg through the breeches-buoy and the
_Miami's_ men, with a cheer, had started to haul him inboard, when that
gust struck the wrecked vessel. It keeled her over, snapping the line of
the breeches-buoy like a whip, and the captain of the steamer was jerked
out into the sea.

Absolutely without thinking of what he did, reverting for the instant
back to the old volunteer life-saving work, when every man went on his
own initiative, Eric tore off coat, trousers, and shoes, snatched a
life-belt, and plunged into the boiling breakers.

At the same second, before even his plunge was noted, the _Miami_
slipped her cable entirely, leaving chain and anchor as booty to the
Diamond Shoals and clawed away from the sandbar, not more than twenty
feet from her bow.

Eric, keyed to a wild and excited perception, saw the captain of the
steamer in the water, a few feet away, and swam to him. He found him
conscious but unable to swim, the jerk from the breeches-buoy having
twisted a sinew in his thigh.

It was a half a mile to land, and the breakers rose all round them. With
a blind intuition the boy struck out for shore. He knew it was no use
trying to reach the ship. How long he struggled he scarcely knew, but
the _Union's_ captain, though in pain and crippled, was able to use his
arms in swimming and, for a few minutes, from time to time, relieved the
boy.

It seemed that hours passed. The chill of failure began to creep into
Eric's spirits. No longer he swam with energy, but with desperation. The
hand of the steamer's captain on his shoulder grew heavier and heavier.
Spots danced before his eyes.

Suddenly his comrade spoke.

"A little further, lad," he said, "a little further. They've seen us!"

And, like a great white angel on the water, the power surf-boat of the
Cape Hatteras Coast Guard station came flying through the surf upon
them. The two branches of the Coast Guard had combined to snat