Cora and the girls went on to the life-saving station not far from their bungalow. They were much interested in the method of launching the boat, and the captain explained how it would right itself if capsized, and also bail out the water that entered in a storm.
“What do you do when you can’t launch a boat?” asked Belle.
“Use the breeches buoy,” answered the grizzled old salt. He showed how by means of a mortar a line was fired aboard the wreck, and how, by a sort of pulley arrangement, the persons in danger could, one at a time, be pulled ashore, sitting in the “breeches buoy.”
“It’s just like some of those apartment house clothes lines on high poles,” said Bess; “isn’t it?”
“I never heard it called that afore,” remarked the captain of the coast guard, “but I s’pose you could call it that if you was a mind to. If you’ll stay around a bit you’ll see our drill.”
The girls were delighted, and eagerly watched while the mortar was fired, the cylindrical shot carrying the line out to an imaginary wreck. Then one man played the part of a shipwrecked mariner, and was hauled over the sand, while Cora took several photographs of him.
“We’ve got her!” exclaimed Jack, as the girls returned to the bungalow. “She isn’t much for looks, but she can beat the Pet!”
“Who?” asked Cora, thinking of something else.
“The motor boat we hired. Come on out and we’ll give you a race.”
“Let’s!” exclaimed Belle.