"If only the rope holds," murmured his chum.
Even as he spoke there came a cry from the two men who had been sent to watch that the anchor in the sand did not drag.
"It's coming! It's coming out!" shouted one of them.
"Sit on it! Hold it down!" yelled the captain. "Into the water after 'em, boys! Come on, ye old seadogs!"
There was a snap—the rope had parted, but so near to the beach were the two that the life-savers waded into the foam and spume, and grabbed them, holding them safe.
They were hauled to the beach, on which huddled the others who had been saved from the wreck.
The lone woman had been taken in charge by the feminine members of the theatrical troupe, who led her toward their boarding house. They said they would soon have hot coffee ready for all the sailors.
"Get 'em out of the buoy!" cried the captain, as the two last rescued were seen to be well-nigh insensible. They were assisted out, and sank helpless on the sand.
"Pretty far gone," remarked a life saver. "One must be the captain, I reckon."
"And the other," began Harry Stanton, keeper
