“From the old fat fellow with the life preservers,” explained the captain.
“Oh,” said Tom, amused, “I understand.”
“Good-by, Barnes,” said the captain, grasping Tom’s hand till he winced. “I wish I had a boy like you.”
“You will thank those gentlemen for their kindness?” asked Tom.
“Oh, they’re the grateful ones,” declared the captain of the Olivia. “I say, Barnes,” he shouted, after waving adieu to Tom from the door of the hotel, “look out for that nickel. It may be real.”
Tom hurried to the dock. He found Bill getting the launch ready for the return trip. The storm had almost passed over by this time.
“Is it home, Tom?” inquired Bill.
“Right away,” assented the young wireless operator, “and the sooner the better. I have some work at the tower before me.”
“They are going to start back with the tug for Garvey rocks, I heard them say,” remarked Bill, as the Beulah got under way. “They may be able to do something with her, at least save something.”
Tom did not talk much on the journey back to the pier. His mind and his heart were both full. He had so much to commend his loyal comrade for, that he did not wish to spoil it by not choosing just the right time, and saying just the right words to impress Bill with a sense of his unaffected worthiness.