“Our captain was the last to leave the schooner, and you know he did not gain the shore,” one of the men replied, his voice choking with emotion. “I’m the mate, however, and you’ll find we can obey orders. A man would be a poor stick who didn’t carry out any instructions given by those who have met death more than half-way to save him.” “I’m not very certain of the road, but if we follow the sound of the fog-horn we’ll come out near the station, and we’d best get off now, else Mr. Downey will think we’re loafing.” “Strike out, an’ we’ll keep at your heels,” the mate replied, and, trusting to this promise, Benny set off, bending low to protect his face from the pitiless lashing of the snow. Very proud was the boy at having been given this share in the labor of rescue, and when the way was difficult, or the elements beat him back, he repeated to himself again and again that if this duty should be performed worthily he would most likely be entrusted with others as occasion might arise. The journey to the station was simply a repetition of the one made after the schooner was first sighted, except that on this occasion he had companionship, and his mind was taken from the difficulties of the way in a great measure by the responsibility which had been put upon him. The mate urged the crew to keep pace with Benny, but every man among them found it more difficult to press on than did the lad; yet the hinder-most was no more than a dozen yards in the rear when the guide gained the door of the station and was welcomed by the shrill barking of Fluff, who had distinguished his master’s footsteps even above the howling of the gale. Since the _Amazonia_ sailed from Calcutta this was the first time the tiny dog had been left alone, and the welcome he gave Benny was so vigorous that it seemed as if the noise would shake his tiny body into fragments. “Be a good dog, Fluff, and wait just a little bit till I get dry clothes for the men. I’m just as glad to see you as you are to see me, but while there’s work to be done we mustn’t spend time telling each other about it.” The dog danced and capered and barked at Benny’s heels as he went back and forth from the store-room to where the sailors were gathered around the glowing fire, and it was much as if he fancied himself assisting in the labor--as if Fluff also counted on being a surfman. The cook, who had retired before the crew set out, now came down to perform his regular share of the work in such cases, which was to make a fresh supply of coffee and prepare a meal for the exhausted men. Benny had faithfully carried out the instructions given him by the keeper, and there was nothing more he could do until the crew should return, when he knew full well his services would be welcomed gladly by the weary, half-frozen life savers.