in his stomach, and the coffee braced him up in a way he very much
needed.

It was quite a distance from the life-saving station to the nearest
telegraph office, but Larry knew he must make it if he wanted an
account of the wreck to get to his paper in time for the edition
that day. So he set off for a tiresome trudge over the wet sand. As
he was leaving, several men, who had been brought ashore from the
ship, came to the station. From them Larry learned that part of the
ship was likely to last until all the passengers and crew could be
saved. He then resolved to telegraph the story of the saving of all,
knowing he could make corrections by an additional message later in
case, by some accident, any lives were lost.

To get to the telegraph office Larry had to go back to a point
nearly opposite where the life savers were working, and then strike
inland. As he was hurrying along he came to a little hummock of
sand, from which elevation he could look down on the beach and see
the crowd gathered about the breeches buoy. Out on the bar he could
make out the wrecked vessel. As he stood there a moment he saw some
one detach himself from the crowd and hurry across the intervening
beach.

"That figure looks familiar," thought Larry. "I wonder if that's
Bailey the fisherman?"

He waited a few minutes, and the figure became more distinct.

"It's Peter Manton!" cried Larry. "He's been sent down here to
report the wreck! I wonder what paper he's on? But I guess I haven't