“God help the men who are drifting on to the coast this night!” Keeper Downey muttered, and then added in a cheery tone, “Get on, boys! Get on! You’ll freeze if you stand loitering here, and exercise is what all of us are most needing just now.” Benny shut his teeth tightly together when, from the movement of the wagon he knew the men were settling forward in the rope harness again, and determined to so husband his strength during the remainder of the journey that when they came to the more difficult portions of the road he might be able to lend some assistance, even though feeble, rather than act the part of a drag on the load. During fifteen minutes more the men pulled and tugged, straining every muscle to drag the heavily laden wagon over the difficult way, and then as if by common consent another halt was made. “We should be seeing the schooner by this time, unless she has succeeded in crawling off from the land,” Keeper Downey said, letting go his hold on the cart as he advanced to the edge of the rocky cliffs and looked out over the waters. No more than five hundred yards in distance lay between them and the dreaded Skinner’s Point, where so many vessels had met their doom, yet the driving snow shut out all save immediate objects from their view. Nothing had been seen or heard from Sam Hardy, and even the keeper began to believe that possibly the danger had been averted from this particular vessel. Again Downey gave the word to push on; again the men strained at the ropes and the handle-bar, and again they were advancing on their mission of mercy. Now no one spoke; each man was too far spent with toil to dare waste breath in cheering his comrades. Then, and it seemed to Benny as if they had but just started on this last stage of the journey, a glow was seen dead ahead through the bewildering maze of dancing, whirling snow, and an exclamation of sorrow burst from the lips of every one. “She has struck, boys, and now we’re to work for their lives!” Keeper Downey shouted, his words causing each member of the crew to leap forward with renewed vigor, as if the knowledge of peril to others had taken from him all sensation of weariness. Benny understood from these words that the light which had been seen was Sam’s signal telling that the schooner had struck the rocks, and what was much like a fever came over him as he exerted all his puny strength to forcing the wagon-load of life-saving appliances on yet faster. It was a race between the life savers and death, and by no possibility could they have won had Keeper Downey been so unwise as to push them to their utmost speed when first setting out from the station. Now that the supreme struggle was at hand they had a reserve of strength which bore them on to partial victory.