“Now, friends,” said Mr. Ringold, bustling up; “those of you who are wet through had better let us take care of you. We have room for you all, and I’ll send word to any of your friends if you’ll give me the addresses. Your wreck, in a way, has been a great thing for me, for I have obtained some wonderful moving pictures of it and this rescue. It will make a great drama. So I want to help you all I can.”
By this time the captain of the vessel had been revived and with his wife and crew was taken to the theatrical boarding place, where the women busied themselves getting warm drinks and food, and the men changed into dry garments loaned by the fishermen and the others. Soon after the last one came ashore the wreck broke up and sank.
“Well, of all the wonderful things I ever experienced, this is the most marvelous,” declared Mr. Duncan, as he sat with his son’s hand in his. “I am wrecked twice, and come back to the same place I ran away from, to find Joe waiting for me.”
“It is wonderful,” agreed Joe, wondering how he was going to bring up the subject of the wreckers.
“Yes, this is the very place I left in such a hurry, a few months ago,” went on Mr. Duncan.
“Would you mind telling me why you left so suddenly?” asked the lighthouse keeper, solemnly. “Of course it’s none of my affair; but I might say it concerns you mightily, Nate Duncan. Can you prove your innocence?”
“Prove my innocence! Of what charge?” cried the man.
“Oh, father, of course we don’t believe it!” burst out Joe, unable to keep silent longer; “but Hemp Danforth says you were implicated with him in wrecking boats by means of false lights!”
“Hemp Danforth says that!” cried Joe’s father.
“Yes. Tell me—tell all of them—that it isn’t so!” pleaded the lad.