the young reporter prepared to alight.

As he went out on the platform the wind increased in violence, and
then, with a rush and a roar, the rain began to fall in torrents.

Larry wished he could stay in the train, as he had no umbrella, but
there was no help for it. He leaped off the platform of the car
almost before it had stopped, and looked for a place of shelter. He
was surprised to see several large buildings in front of him, but
even through the mist of rain he noted that they were dilapidated
and forsaken. He was in the midst of a deserted seaside resort.

He hurried on, being wet through before he had gone a dozen steps.
Then he heard the train puffing away. It seemed as though he was
left all alone in a very lonesome place.

"Hi! Where you going?" a voice hailed him.

Larry looked up, to see a man clad in yellow oilskins and rubber
boots standing in front of him.

"I came down about the wreck," was the young reporter's reply.

"Got any folks aboard? If you have I'm sorry. She's broken her
back!"

"No; I'm a reporter from New York. What do you mean about breaking
her back?"

"Why, she ran away up on the bar at high tide. When it got low tide