Tom hailed the unmistakable signal of distress from the steamer _Olivia_
with energy and hope.
"I think I understand why we saw no lights," he remarked. "The steamer
must have driven into the breakers beyond what they call the North
Sentinel."
"That must be it," assented Bill. "Now Tom, get to your lever."
Bill tackled the wheel with renewed vigor and Tom braced up magically.
At all events, he reflected, the _Olivia_ had not yet gone down. They
would be in time for a rescue. The heavy wind, the pelting rain, the
erratic gyrations of the launch, were as nothing to him now. The thought
that he might be able to save precious human lives inspired him with
courage.
A second rocket sailed through the mist-laden air a few minutes later.
Bill, in high animal spirits, amid his excitement kept shouting out like
a schoolboy driving a bicycle.
"Go it! Whoop-la! There's a dive for you! Beats automobiling!"
"Hurrah!" broke in Tom.
"She's there," echoed Bill.
"Yes, the _Olivia_ at last," cried Tom.
Veering slightly to southeast, the launch came in sight of the bobbing
ship's lights. One, a bulkhead reflector, was quite clear and guiding.
"Go cautiously now, Bill," warned our hero.
"I'll give you speed signals," responded Bill. "One--two, slow up."
"All right."
Tom knew from having visited the Garvey Rocks more than once in the past
that they were nearing dangerous waters. Somehow, however, he had
confidence in his pilot. Bill was daring, and more than once the keel of
the _Beulah_ grazed some obstruction. But Bill shouted back to Tom each
time that he knew his route, and would bring about no disaster through
recklessness.
They were now so near to the steamer that they could make out her
situation quite clearly.
"She's stove in!" declared Bill. "Her fires are out, and there must be a
leak. Look at her now, Tom--she's rolling."
The condition of the _Olivia_ was a precarious one--Tom discerned this
at a glance. She had fallen over slightly on one side. The lights on
deck showed a number of passengers huddled at a slanting bow, clinging
to a cable which had been strung from rail to rail, to prevent them from
falling or rolling when a particularly heavy billow would cause the once
staunch ship to quiver and topple.
Another rocket went up. It was followed by a ringing cheer. The launch,
slowing down, came directly into the strong central focus of the
bulkhead reflector. Those working about the ship, clinging to this and
that as they moved about, paused to stare at the staunch little craft of
rescue. The passengers huddled together lost their terror and a babel of
excited, hopeful, joyous voices sounded out.
"Oh Tom!--Tom!"
The young wireless operator thrilled with an emotion he could not
analyze. In an instant he recognized the voice of Grace Morgan. Could
she have been thinking of him, that the recognition was so prompt; or,
despite his unusual garb and the clumsy oilcloth cap, did the powerful
reflector glow bring out his features in strong relief?
"Ease her!" shouted Bill, and his very soul seemed centered in working
the wheel to prevent both collision and retreat.
"Throw them a cable!" roared the trumpet tones of the captain of the
steamer.
Tom caught the coiling end of the rope and secured it, allowing a play
of a few feet between the two craft.
"Drop the ladder!" came the next order.
"The women first!" shouted one of the steamer officers. "Get back,
there!"
There was light enough for Tom to see a portly, fussy old man press
close to the rail, vehemently shouting out that he would sue the
steamship company if they did not instantly get him to dry land. He
uttered a howl of despair as he was ignominiously bundled out of the
way.
"I can't--I won't, I shall faint!" shrieked a rasping feminine voice, as
a staunch sailor was compelled to carry her down the swaying ladder.
She wriggled like an eel as Tom grabbed her and forced her into the
cabin of the launch, going instantly into hysterics as she landed on a
cushioned seat.
"There are only eight of the ladies," called down the captain.
"Hold tight, Aunt Bertha," Tom heard a familiar voice speak steadily.
"Oh, dear, I know I shall fall and be drowned!" wailed the second of the
rescued passengers, whom Tom was sure must be the aunt in whose charge
Grace had started on the present unlucky voyage.
[Illustration: "YOU BRAVE GIRL!" CRIED TOM IRRESISTIBLY.]
"We won't let you, ma'am," assured the sailor at the rail. "Be speedy
now. There's more to follow."
The descent of seven of the ladies was accomplished. Tom had not caught
a murmur of protest or fear from the plucky little maiden who had waited
her turn till the last.
A shriek loud and ringing went up from the seventh lady, for just as Tom
seized her both of them were nearly hurled into the water. A fearful
gust of wind had driven the launch with a crash against the hull of the
steamer. The same terrific force gave the steamer a lurch, and she
threatened to turn turtle. As she righted, although the ladder was
flopping about like a whiplash, Grace sprang past the sailor at the
rail, slid one-half the length of the ladder, was swung out, and just
caught in Tom's arms as the captain of the steamer roared out in thunder
tones:
"Slip the cable, you lubber, or the launch will be crushed!"
"You brave girl!" cried Tom irresistibly.
"Oh, Tom, can I help?" inquired Grace.
"Yes, quiet those in the cabin."
Bill sounded the bell at the wheel and Tom with lightning speed made a
dash for the lever. He reversed just as the giant hull of the steamer
flung down with crushing force.
"Fire! murder! help! police!" yelled the frantic fat old man on deck, as
his fond hopes vanished with the receding launch.
"Stand by!" shouted the captain of the steamer to Tom. "There's a dozen
passengers left yet."
"There's room with crowding, if you can get them aboard," reported Tom.
"Life preservers, all!" roared the captain. "One more lurch like that,
and she'll split in two! Lower the men passengers."
"No need," shouted back Tom just then, as a dazzling light rounded the
North Sentinel.
"The steam tug!" cried Bill.
"That will serve us. We're all right now," declared the captain. "Get
the women passengers ashore."
With a yell just then a great bulky form came shooting over the side of
the steamer. It was the fussy old man. Tom barely managed to grasp
something floating behind him, or the suction of the passing tug would
have drawn him under the swiftly revolving steam screw.
"I'm drowned! I'm dead!" bawled the man, half choked with salt water, as
Tom pulled him to the deck of the launch, to find that as many as six
life preservers encumbered his bulky form.
The steam tug had approached the _Olivia_, running her length as if to
discover the real merits of her situation. Preparing to start the launch
into the open sea away from the rocks and then to run direct for
Brookville, Tom and Bill for a moment were awed into inactivity as a
great shout went up.
The steamer again lurched to one side. A loud crash sounded above the
howling gale, and the _Olivia_ lay a shattered wreck on the rocks.