“You must get up,” said Helga Johnston’s voice firmly. “Swallow some of this brandy.”
“I’m sorry,” said Colton penitently. “Did I curse you out? Please let me sleep.”
The girl was quick-witted. “We want your help,” she said.
Colton sat up. She had struck the right note. Docilely he took the brandy, and got to his feet.
Haynes came up and steadied him. “Miss Johnston and I have our lives to thank you for,” he said briefly. “You’d better get home. Some of the life-savers will help you.”
“No, I’m all right,” declared Colton. “Where’s the man Miss Johnston saved? Let’s have a peep at him. I’m a physician.”
“Are you?” said Haynes eagerly. “Then I want you to look at one of the men on the cliff, as soon as you’ve finished with Helga’s waif.”
Colton looked around him, memory now aroused. “Professor Ravenden!” he said. “I want to thank him for getting me out.”
“He and Miss Ravenden have gone to the station,” said Helga, “to help care for the rescued men. The captain and the mate have been washed in, dead.”
“Oh,” said Colton blankly. His mind was still blurred. He looked at his tight-clutched left hand and wondered if there was something inside. Cautiously he opened it, looked, started, choked down an exclamation, and thrust the hand into the pocket of his dripping trousers. Then he walked over to the man whom Miss Johnston had saved.