“We ought to have left her on board,” continued the Patrol Leader. “There wasn’t time,” rejoined Craddock. “’Sides, she’d be far more terrified if she’d been left by herself.” Another ten minutes passed. Then the Scoutmaster of the Troop on the _Kestrel’s_ right came up to Mr. Grant. “There’s a boat come ashore,” he reported. “She was full of water and capsized as she was thrown on the beach. The Weymouth Troop have found eight of the crew. Two of them are dead. There are a lot more to be accounted for. Pass the information along, please.” Presently from the left came the order, “Increase interval by four paces.” This was to fill up the gap left by the Weymouth Sea Scouts, who, being engaged in the task of restoring to life the apparently drowned members of the _Lumberjack’s_ crew, had left their section of the shore unwatched. Already they were carrying some of the survivors away in hastily constructed stretchers to the shelter of an isolated farm-house. “Well, that looks like business, lads,” commented Mr. Grant, as he passed behind the line. “There are others still to come ashore. Keep a smart look-out.” It was easier said than done, so thick was the fog, although the stars were beginning to show overhead through the low-lying bank of salt-laden vapour. Suddenly, Molly began to bark furiously and struggled so fiercely that Peter placed him on the sand. Instantly she darted towards the water’s edge, and although she retreated when the next breaker swept forward, she followed up the receding wave and continued to bark. Simultaneously Brandon and Craddock rushed forward. They were within ten feet of each other before they discovered each other’s presence. “What is it?” asked the Patrol Leader. “Molly’s spotted something,” replied Peter. “Look! It’s a life-buoy.” The next wave brought the buoy almost to Craddock’s feet, although he had to go knee-deep into the retiring “undertow” before he could secure it. The canvas of the life-buoy was ripped in several places, and most of the rope that ought to be attached to it was missing; but painted on it in black letters was the name “S.S. _Lumberjack_.” Hurling the life-buoy out of the way of the breaking waves, Brandon was about to resume his post when Craddock shouted to him. [Illustration: Returning Good for Evil Masses of milk-white foam were swirling round his legs; he could see that the succeeding wave would be upon him before he could get into deeper water. If it caught him squarely it would hurl him like a stone upon the beach, and probably batter the breath from his body.] “Where’s the line?” he asked. “There’s a man out there. Look out for Molly.” At that moment Mr. Grant and Carline appeared through the fog. Already Peter was securing one end of the rope round his waist. “Look after Molly,” he reiterated. “She’ll be after me if you don’t.” And, handing the coiled portion of the rope to Mr. Grant and Brandon, Craddock rushed into the water.