CHAPTER XIII.

SAVED FROM THE STORM.

In spite of Keeper Bowling’s light words, inwardly he shared his assistant’s anxiety and keen sense of responsibility. His calm, easy manner was assumed chiefly that his other men and his guests might not dread the worst, before the belated sponger had made further progress toward the haven.

However, everyone felt anxious. The men were dividing their watches as usual in order to keep the light in prime order throughout the night. At last word came that the sponger had struck on the nearby shoals. Instantly all was hustle and prompt action in the lighthouse. All but one of the men, followed by Roy Norton and the four scouts, lanterns in hand, hurried down to the scene of the wreck.

“They must have been too close to the light and miscalculated their distance,” said Bowling, throwing a coil of rope over his shoulder. “In the darkness it’s quite possible to do that. Even experienced seamen have made that mistake.

“Men,” he added, a moment later, “I’m going back to the house and rig a block to a bar across the east window of the tower. By overhauling all the spare line in the storeroom, I’ll get enough to make a tackle that will reach from that window well down into the water.”

“Yes, but what then?” Hugh asked breathlessly. “What will that do, sir?”

“With the loose end—well padded so it won’t cut—belayed under the arms, there’ll be a good chance for some one to go out into the surf and carry the line to those poor devils out there. And then I——”

“Oh, Captain!” cried Hugh eagerly. “Let me go! I’m light, I can swim, and I’m not a bit afraid of the rough water. Say, Mr. Bowling, let me go!”

“You, my boy! Not much! You must be crazy!”

The other men protested against Hugh taking such a risk.

“Lad, you don’t know what it would be to swim out there in these rough shoals! It takes a heavier chap than you to do the stunt,” said one man gravely.

“Why, you’d be battered around like a cork by these waves,” said another. “Any moment you might be dashed on a hidden reef and——”

“Oh, I’m sure I could do it!” declared Hugh.

“No, no, lad!” interposed Bowling decidedly. “It’s out of the question, though we all like your courage.”

Without waiting to hear more, he and Bill Wayne ran back to the lighthouse. Hastening to the storeroom and opening its window, they shoved a timber through, pulling it across the aperture. They attached to this a large quantity of rope and a pulley block. Bowling then knotted the rope around Bill’s body, after which Wayne clambered up on the sill. Bowling hauled the line taut as it ran through the block, and, when the assistant swung off, he lowered Bill slowly to the rocks below.

Standing near, Hugh could see Wayne as he went boldly into the surf. The lad’s heart bounded with the thrill of the exploit which he had vainly sought to undertake. Again and again he saw Bill carried off his feet by the force of the waves beating on the line of rocky ledges, bowled over, tossed to and fro; again and again he saw him stagger up, pulled backward and upward by the line fastened to the timber and manipulated by Bowling’s strong arms. And, finally, to his horror, he saw Wayne fall under a big roller, and he waited vainly in breathless suspense for him to rise.

It was then that Hugh acted with impetuous courage. Plunging into the surf before anyone could restrain him, he dived and swam and fought his way to the place where he had seen Bill knocked down. He was just in time to seize the floating line, which had become caught around a submerged point of rock, and yank the other swimmer up until he had regained a foothold. Together they staggered back, Wayne gasping his thanks and praise. He was just about to make another attempt to strike out to the sponger, when he was arrested by a loud outcry.

The other members of the rescuing party had ventured further along the ledge of coral limestone, carrying with them their lanterns and ropes. At their feet the surf broke sullenly, foaming on the rock, making it slippery. It was dangerous work, yet they were filled with the high resolve to aid those unknown, helpless fellow beings in even greater peril out there in the darkness. They shouted, waved lanterns and finally saw a light waved in answer—before it was extinguished by a tremendous wave. While they were waving, three half-drowned spongers were flung, still swimming, into shallow water; and Norton, Chester and two men sprang in and dragged them out on the ledge.

It was the shout that greeted this act of heroism which caused Bill Wayne and Hugh to desist from their brave efforts.

Without loss of time, the unfortunate men were hurriedly carried to the lighthouse, where first-aid measures were immediately applied.

Anxiously the boys watched the efforts of the gruff keeper and his assistants, and eagerly they saw the signs of life returning gradually to the half-drowned spongers. As soon as the men were able to take it, the captain gave each of them a cup of steaming coffee. And by the time this hot stimulant had done its work, they were ready to sit up and recount their adventures.

They had, it seemed, passed one available harbor late that afternoon, believing that they could reach their destination before the storm overtook them. But the wind had caught them, the rudder had snapped off short, and they had drifted upon the shoals in spite of their best efforts to avoid them.

They had watched despairingly the futile efforts of the men who had tried to rescue them, and had finally determined to cast themselves into the sea and trust to their swimming powers and the inrushing waves to carry them within reach of safety.

When the thrilling tale was ended, the boys drew deep sighs, realizing only then that they had quite forgotten to breathe in their intense interest.