"Don't ye do it!" cried the man, Mason, starting forward. "If you pull that lanyard ye'll be blowed sky-high."
"Well, who should pull it if I don't?" demanded the old captain of the station, grimly. "Guess old 'Binadab Cope ain't goin' to step back for you young fellers yet a while. Come! git, I tell ye! Far back—afar back."
"Oh! he'll be killed!" murmured Ruth.
"You come back here, Ruth Fielding!' commanded Tom, clutching her arm. If that gun blows up we want to be a good bit away."
The whole party ran back. They saw the last of the crew leave the old captain. He stood firmly, at one side of the gun, his legs placed wide apart; they saw him pull the lanyard. Fire spat from the muzzle of the gun and with a shriek the shot-line was carried seaward, toward the wreck.
The old gun, double charged, turned a somersault and buried its muzzle in the sand. The captain dodged, and went down—perhaps thrown by the force of the explosion. But the gun did not burst.
However, he was upon his feet again in a moment, and all the crowd were shouting their congratulations. The flying line had carried squarely over the middle of the wreck.
