"Wait, and I'll show a light," volunteered Tom raising his foot-long
flashlight.

Some seventy-five yards behind them a crawling snake-like figure flattened
itself out on the top of the rock wall.

"Don't show the light just yet," pleaded Harry. "It might only make me
more dizzy."

The flattened figure behind them wriggled noiselessly along.

"Just listen to the water," continued Hazelton. "Tom, I'm half-inclined to
think that the water is roughening."

"I believe it is," agreed Tom.

"Fine time we'll have getting back, if a gale springs up from the
southward," muttered Harry.

"See here, old fellow," interposed Tom vigorously, "you're not up to
concert pitch to-night. Now, I'll tell you what I'll do---first of all,
what _you'll_ do. You sit right down flat on the top of the wall. Then
I'll move on up forward and see what has been happening out there that
should boom shoreward with such a racket. You stay right here, and I'll
be back as soon as I've looked into the face of the mystery."

"What do you take me for?" Harry asked almost fiercely. "A baby? Or a
cold-foot?"

"Nothing like it," answered Tom Reade with reassuring positiveness.