to the firing of the signal gun.

"Where is the wreck?" asked Larry, going to a window that looked
out on the sea.

"Notice that black speck, right in line with my boat on the beach?"
asked Bailey, pointing with a stubby forefinger over the young
reporter's shoulder.

"That thing that looks like a seagull?"

"That's her. You can't see it very well on account of the rain, but
there she lies, going to pieces fast, I'm afraid."

"Why didn't they get the people off before this?"

"Captain wouldn't accept help. Thought the vessel would float off
and he'd save his reputation. The life savers went out when it was
fairly calm, but didn't take anyone ashore. Now it's too late, I
reckon."

As the fisherman spoke a rocket cleaved the fast-gathering blackness
and shot up into the air.

"What's that?" asked Larry.

"She's firing signal lights. Wait and you'll see the coast-guard
send up one in reply."

Presently a blue glare, up the beach not far from the cottage, shone