ather dangerous stretch of the Jersey shore,
not far from Cape May. There were several lighthouses along it, but
they did not always prevent vessels from running on a long sand bar,
some distance out. More than one gallant ship had struck far up on
it, and, being unable to get off, had been pounded to pieces by the
waves.

By inquiring Larry found that the wreck of the _Olivia_ was just off
a lonely part of the coast, and that there were no railroad stations
near it.

"Where had I better get off?" he asked, of the conductor.

"Well, you can get off at Sea Isle City, or Sackett's Harbor. Both
stations are about five miles from where the ship lies, according to
all accounts. Then you can walk."

"He can do better than that," interposed a brakeman.

"How?" asked Larry.

"There's a station, or rather what remains of it, half way between
those places," the brakeman said. "It used to be called Miller's
Beach. Started to be a summer resort, but it failed. There's nothing
there now but a few fishermen's huts. But I guess that's nearer the
wreck than Sea Isle City or Sackett's Harbor."

"Is there a place I could stay all night?" asked the young reporter.

"You might find a place. It's pretty lonesome. Sometimes, in the
summer, there are campers there, but it's too late in the fall now
to expect any of 'em. We'll stop there for water, and you can get
off if you like."

Larry hardly knew what to do. Still he decided he was sent to get a
story of the wreck, and he felt it would be well to get as near to
it as possible. But there was another thing to think of, and that
was how to get his news back into the _Leader_ office. He must be
near a telegraph station. Inquiry of the trainmen disclosed the fact
that the nearest one was three miles from Miller's Beach.

"Guess I'll chance it," concluded Larry.

"We'll be there in an hour," went on the brakeman. "It's the
jumping-off place, so to speak, and it's not going to be very
pleasant there when the storm breaks."

That a heavy storm was gathering was all too evident from the mass
of dark, rolling clouds in the east. They hung low, and there was a
rising wind.

"I wouldn't want to be on that vessel," remarked the brakeman as the
train, having stopped at a small station, started off again. "It's
beginning to rain now, and it will blow great guns before morning."

Several men, their faces bronzed from exposure to the weather, had
boarded the train. They talked quietly in