The thunder of the breakers over the reef finally deafened them.  The rocking schooner, buffeted by waves that could not drive her completely over the reef, towered finally above the heads of the men in the lifeboat.

Cap’n Trainor’s straining eyes deciphered her name painted on the bow.  He threw a hand upward in a surprised gesture, still clinging to the steering oar with his other hand, and shrieked aloud: 

“The Curlew!  By mighty! who’d ha’ thought it?  ’Tis the Curlew.”  He, too, knew of Cap’n Abe’s supposed voyage on the seaweed ship.

The oarsmen read the word upon the skipper’s lips rather than heard his voice.  Two, at least, were shocked by the announcement—­Lawford and the storekeeper.  There was no opportunity for comment upon this wonder.

Skillfully the lifeboat was brought around under the lee of the wreck.  Already most of her crew had crept down to the rail and were waiting, half submerged, to drop into the lifeboat.  But one figure was still visible high up in the shrouds.

When the waves sucked out from under her the keel of the lifeboat almost scratched the reef.  Then it rose on a swell to the very rail of the wreck, wedged so tightly on the rock.

The castaways came inboard rapidly, bringing their injured skipper with them.  The lifeboat was quickly overburdened with human freight.

“No more!  No more!” shouted Cap’n Trainor.  “We’ll have to make another trip.”

“Where’s the professor?  Bring down the professor!  There he is!” yelled the mate of the Curlew, who had given his attention to the injured master of the wrecked craft.  “Who lashed him fast up there?”

There was a movement forward.  The storekeeper had got up and pulled a stout-armed member of the Curlew’s crew into his place.

“Take my oar!” commanded Cap’n Abe.  “I got a niece—­he’s her father.  Hi-mighty!  I just got to get him aboard!”

With an agility that belied his years he leaped for the schooner’s rail as the next surge rose.  He swarmed inboard and started up the shrouds.  Those below remained silent while he climbed.

He reached the helpless man, whipped out his knife, cut the lashings.  Slight as the storekeeper seemed, his muscles were of steel.  As though the half-conscious professor were a child, he lowered him to the slanting deck.

“Only room for one o’ you!” roared Cap’n Trainor.  “Only one!  We’re overloaded as ’tis.  Better wait.”

“You’ll take him!” shouted Cap’n Abe, and dropped his burden at Lawford Tapp’s feet.

The next moment the lifeboat shot away from the side of the wreck, leaving the Man Who Was Afraid marooned upon her deck.

That was a perilous journey for the overladen boat.  Only the good management of Cap’n Trainor could have brought her safely to shore.  And when she banged upon the beach it was almost a miracle that she did not start all her bottom boards.