The whole face of the sea, meantime, had changed; a fierce storm had arisen; the wind howled and the rain beat clown against his refuge, and the noise of the storm but sent a warmer glow to his heart. Our hero realized that he had reached shore just in time. The tempest had held back for him, as it were, as, had it come upon him while in the sea, no power on earth could have saved him. Ensconced in his deserted cabin with a glowing fire, his pipe, and a wee drop of whisky, the roar of the tempest was music in his ears, and lulled him to a peaceful slumber from which he was rudely aroused, later on, by a punch in the ribs. The detective awoke, leaped to his feet, and confronted a powerful-looking man in an oil-skin suit. "Hello! who are you, and what are you doing here?" came the inquiry from the stranger. "These are just the questions I'm putting to you," answered our hero. "Well, stranger, my questions are first, I reckon." "You're right; but tell me, am I in your quarters?" "No, not exactly; this shanty was built for common use; but where did you come from?" "I came from the sea." "You're a man, you're not a fish; how did you come in from the sea?" "I swam in." "Has there been a wreck?" "Not to my knowledge." "Well, you're talking riddles; suppose you get down to plain United States lingo." "I fell overboard and was compelled to swim or sink." "What sort of a craft did you come over from?" "A yacht." "A pleasure yacht?" "Well, yes." "And you weren't picked up?" "If I had been I wouldn't be here." "That's so. How far were you off shore?" "Not very far." "You must have gone over before the storm set in." "I should say so; and now as I've answered your questions, who are you?" "I am a fisherman. I ran into the cove on account of the storm, and came over here to stay until daylight, or later if the storm holds." "I reckon the storm won't hold much longer; it's only a passing tempest, and so make yourself comfortable. Will you have a bite?" "Thank you, I had food with me in my boat." "Will you cover a little whisky." "I will!" came the hearty acceptance. The two men had a long, pleasant talk, and our hero soon learned that his new acquaintance was a really honest fisherman--good, square man; and there are many of them on the Long Island coast, and no truer and better men can be found in any quarter of the globe. When fully satisfied that the man was an honest fellow, our hero opened up a certain subject with him. "Taylor, did you run across a gang of smugglers in your experience along the coast?" "You can just bet I have run across them; and, between you and me, it is an easy matter to put my hand on the key that locks the door of their secret warehouse." "You can do that?" "I can." "How is it you have never communicated with the Government?" "Well, I'll tell you. I've always been afraid it might get me into some sort of a scrape. You see, I am a man of family, and couldn't afford to lose any time."