"I thought I could help here," replied Larry. "Besides, I'd like to
see you work the breeches buoy."

"You'll see all you want of that in the morning," replied the coast
patrol. "We can't do much until daylight. Are you afraid to go back
alone?"

"No," replied Larry.

Back he trudged to Bailey's cabin. It was about three o'clock when
he reached there, and he found the fisherman sitting beside the
table, drinking some hot tea.

"I thought you'd got lost," spoke the fisherman.

"I went to help 'em launch the boat. They needed me. George Tucker
was coming for you, but I told him of the man we saved. How is he?"

"Doing well. He's asleep in the next room. He had been struck on the
head by something, and that was what made him senseless. It wasn't
the water. I soon brought him around. How about the wreck?"

Larry told all he knew. Bailey insisted on the young reporter
drinking two cups of steaming hot tea, and Larry felt much better
after it. Then he and the fisherman stretched out on the floor to
wait until morning, which would soon break.

Bailey was up early, and his movements in the hut as he shook down
the fire and made coffee, aroused Larry.