the same
report. It was handed down the line, over to other shores, and the
watchers speculated as to what had taken place.

Arthur Oddy, who has charge of half a dozen watchers, told me that his
one great regret was that he had not seen a sign of the war, barring
uniforms. Nevertheless, for more than two and a half years he has
scanned the sea and shore of his district with dutiful care, and has
seen to it that his men have not been amiss in their share of the
tedious task. His station is very near the Last House in England, at
Land's End--a tea place kept by Mrs. E. James.

"What is that out there?" exclaimed a stranger, suddenly. "Looks like
part of a boat."

"That," declared Oddy, "is the Shark's Fin--a rock."

True enough, the rock of that name might have at times been a giant fish
or a wrecked submarine. It was lashed by the foamy waters, disappeared,
and then showed a bit, again was swallowed up, and seemed to reappear a
yard or so further along from where it first was seen. Finally, you
observed that it was a sharp, dangerous rock.

A mile or so farther along that coast I encountered John Thomas Wheeler,
the wearer of several medals, including a gold one received since the
war commenced from the King of Sweden. In peace time, just before the
war, Wheeler did his bit to save wrecked mariners. He is still doing it
in war time, with his eyes open for everything. As we stood there, with
the sea lashing the shingly beach and hammering the rocks, Wheeler,
chief officer of that station, recalled the story of the wreck of the
_Trifolium_, a Swedish sailing ship.

"It was terrible rough," said Wheeler, "when through the darkness we saw
the green light of the distress-signals. I shot off a rocket with a rope
to the forepart of the vessel. The men, who were clinging to the
rigging, paid no attention to it. Then I sent off another rope between
the main and the mizzen masts. First, they paid no heed to that; but,
finally, one man in oilskins jumped into the sea to catch hold of part
of the rope. He was followed by others. Perilous though it was on that
night, we walked out to help the men ashore. One after another, gasping
and unconscious sailors were landed. Then the ship broke in half, and
soon was torn to bits by the sea. I was looking for more men, as I had
seen one poor chap under the steel mast when it fell. A wave struck me,
and I found myself caught between two rocks. It looked all up for me, as
I could not m