As the waves rose the eight men could be seen struggling amid the foaming waters, and this sight caused the life savers to forget their previous failure--their late struggle amid that same surf, wherein death so nearly overtook them. “Come on, boys!” Downey shouted, throwing off his outer clothing as he ran swiftly to where the surf-boat, having drifted ashore, was lying beyond reach of the waves. “We can’t stand here and see them drown, however the disaster has been caused!” Benny ran with the crew, clutching at Sam Hardy’s garments as if begging him not to make the venture which apparently meant positive death; but yet daring to speak no word. Once more they ran breast-deep into the water, and, clambering over the gunwale as the surf-boat was borne swiftly outward by the receding wave, took up their oars. Again they battled against wind and tide, heading straight onward to where the seven struggling wretches could be seen--one had already disappeared. Two of the steamer’s men were striking out for the shore, and appeared to be making fair headway, while five others were clustered near the capsized boat, apparently making no decided effort to save themselves, except by keeping their heads above water. It seemed to Benny that the surf-boat must be turned end over end before she was thirty yards from the shore, in the same manner as during the first attempt to put off; but Keeper Downey handled her with consummate skill, and, owing to the fact that the tide was ebbing, he succeeded in keeping her on a comparatively even keel, avoiding the two swimmers in order to direct his first efforts toward those who appeared unable to help themselves. The lad ashore followed with his eyes every movement made by his comrades, literally ceasing to breathe when the surf-boat was thrown high up by the swell, and then panting heavily, as if sharing in the exercise, when the crew strained every muscle to force her over the next foaming wave. Inch by inch, combating both wind and current, their lives hanging in the balance when the little craft was poised on the crest of some gigantic roller, the brave life savers advanced until they had come to the group of five who still paddled wildly around the overturned boat. This was a moment most fraught with peril, and Benny clenched his hands until the nails almost cut the flesh, so great was his suspense and fear, as one after another of the men was hauled over the boat’s rail, saved, if the crew could gain the shore again. The two who had been swimming were by this time within the line of shore-breakers, moving slowly as if nearly exhausted, and No. 8 saw his opportunity of doing real life-saving work. Seizing a coil of rope from the beach-wagon, he ran with all speed to the very edge of the water, when, standing motionless for an instant to make certain of his aim, he flung one end out over the waves.