“What do you think about some of us rowing over to what is left of the wreck?” asked Sam.

“I was thinking of that.  But, if we do that, we had better wait until to-morrow morning.  You can’t see much in the dark.”

“If I thought anybody was dying for the want of aid, I’d go over,” said Tom.  “We all know what brutes Lesher and Baxter are.  They wouldn’t hesitate to go off and leave some of the others to die where they had fallen.”

“I think Tom is right, and some of us ought to go over,” said Dick.

“I’m willing to go,” announced old Jerry.  “We can move around like cats in the dark, so they won’t know we are near until we tell ’em.”

“You might take some medicines along, and some bandages,” said Nellie.

“Take a bottle of sweet oil and some flour,” put in Grace.  “They are both good for burns.”

The matter was talked over until midnight, and then it was settled that Dick, Tom, and old Jerry should take the largest rowboat and some bandages and medicines and row over to the vicinity of the fire.  They were to land on the beach below what was left of the wreck and crawl through the bushes on a tour of discovery.  If they found that they were not absolutely needed, they were to return without making their presence known to the mutineers and Dan Baxter.

The two boys and the old sailor were soon on the way.  Care had been taken to wrap cloth around the oars where they slipped in the row-locks, so that the boat moved through the water, as noiselessly as a shadow.

Once out in the bay the boys and old Jerry, pulled with a will, and in less than half an hour the beach north of what was left of the wreck was gained.  They approached with great caution.

“Do you see or hear anything?” whispered Tom.

“No,” answered Dick, and then the rowboat grated on the sand, and all leaped ashore.

With their medicines and bandages in their pockets, and pistols in hand, they commenced to crawl through the bushes.  Before long they came to a point from which they could look toward the wreck.  All was dark and deserted and the air was filled with the smell of burnt wood and water.

“I don’t see anybody, do you?” whispered Dick.

“Nary a soul in sight,” answered old Jerry.

With equal care they moved around to the other side of the wreck, over a mass of burnt brushwood.

“Hark!” said Tom.

They listened, and, from a distance, made out a faint groan.

“That is somebody, and in great pain,” said Dick.  “Come on,” and he led the way.

Around a pile of rocks they found a sailor.  He was propped up against a tree, and was suffering from some burns on his legs and feet.

“Bostwick!” said old Jerry.

“Oh! oh!  Help me!” groaned Bostwick piteously.  “Give me a drink of water!”

“Where are the others?” asked Dick.

“Gone!  They left me to take care of myself.  Oh, the wretches!  Please help me; won’t you, for the love of Heaven!”