CHAPTER XXVIII

JESS TO THE RESCUE

“Who are you talking to?” asked Jerry.

“Jess, of course,” replied Ned, greatly excited. “She’s outside. Jess! Jess!” he called again. “We are locked in the storeroom!”

The boys waited anxiously. Then, from without, came a whisper that sounded loudly through the darkened room.

“What has happened? Where is my uncle? Who are you?”

“It’s me; Ned,” was the reply, whispered from the prison. “They captured us! Have you a key? Can you let us out? How did you get away from Noddy?”

“Oh, this is terrible!” cried Jess. “How did it happen?”

She was standing under the small slit in the masonry that served to let air into the storeroom. The light from a lamp in the kitchen of the place streamed out from a window full on her, so Ned could see the girl plainly, though of course she could not see him.

“Why you are all wet!” cried Ned. “Did you fall in the water?”

“No, I jumped,” came the tense whisper. “What shall I do to let you out?”

“Can you get the key to this place?” asked Ned. “If you can, sneak into the house, and open the door, let us out and we’ll call help, and try to prevent the men from changing the light.”

“Where is my uncle?”

“He was called away, by a false telephone message, we believe, to see his sick sister! The men put up a game to get him away! Quick Jess, or it will be too late!”

Ned saw the girl step back out of the path of illumination and gaze upward. As she did so she uttered a half suppressed scream.

“They are changing the light!” she uttered in a shrill whisper. “And there’s a storm about to break! What shall I do?”

As she spoke there came a low rumble of thunder off to the west and a flash of lightning.

“Let us out if possible!” whispered Ned. “They are so busy with the light they may not notice you. Get the keys and let us out!”

“I will! I will!” exclaimed Jess. “If I can only succeed!”

Ned saw her dart around the corner of the house. Then she was out of his line of vision. They could only wait developments now.

“Do you think she can do it?” asked Jerry.

“She will if it’s possible,” replied Ned. “Only there is not much time. My! But it’s going to storm fierce!”

A loud crash of thunder sounded, making the stout lighthouse vibrate. The flashes of lightning showed through the ventilating window, illuminating the small apartment with a weird glow. The wind was howling about the place.

“There’ll be a heavy sea on,” said Jerry. “The ship will get upon the rocks and go to pieces. Then these scoundrels will go out and pick up the cargo.”

“There may be many lives lost,” exclaimed Bob. “The life saving station is short-handed. They all are in the summer time.”

“If Jess can only get the keys!” Ned murmured.

It seemed like an hour before there sounded a tapping on the storeroom door. Ned sprang to answer it.

“Are you still there, boys?” they heard Jess ask.

“Yes! Yes!” whispered Jerry. “Have you the keys?”

“No, the men must have taken them.”

“Then get an axe and see if you can’t break the lock.”

“It is too strong. Besides they might hear the blows.”

“Where are the men?”

“In the lantern tower,” the girl replied. “Wait a minute, let me think of a plan.”

Outside the storm was raging. Locked in the storeroom the boys felt like beating at the door with their fists to break it down, so they might get out, change the light, and save the steamer.

“I have it!” Jess whispered through the big keyhole. “I will burn the lock out.”

“How?” asked Ned.

“With a hot poker. I’ll heat it in the kitchen stove. I’ll burn a lot of little holes all around the lock, and then I can knock the piece of door out! The men can’t hear that!”

“Good!” cried Ned. “Hurry Jess!”

They could hear the girl moving about the kitchen. The rattle of iron on iron came to their ears. Presently there was the smell of burning wood. It grew stronger. Then a dull red point pierced the door, and came through into the storeroom.

“That’s the first hole!” whispered Jess. “I’ll burn them as fast as I can.”

To the boys it seemed as if there was half an hour between each reappearance of the glowing point of the poker, but it was only a few minutes. There were seven holes burned, when they heard Jess hurry away.

Then resounded the tramp of feet in the lower part of the lighthouse. A few seconds later the boys heard voices.

“Is it working all right?” a man asked.

“You bet,” was the reply. “Now you and Bill had better put off in the sloop. She’ll strike pretty soon, and you may pick up passengers with a lot of valuables.”

“It’s blowing pretty hard to go out in the sloop,” one of the crowd objected.

“Oh, don’t get chicken-hearted,” was the sneering response. “You and Bill have got to go. Me and Jim will stay here and work the light. We can tell when the rockets go up that she’s struck, and then we’ll skip. We’ll meet at the cove.”

The voices died away, as though the men had left. The sound of the storm increased. Anxiously the boys waited for Jess to come back. It was several minutes before she did so. Then she whispered through the keyhole:

“I had to run and hide when I heard the men coming from the tower. Two of them have gone out, and the others have gone back to the light. We must hurry!”

Once more came the smell of burning wood, and once more the dull red point of the poker began to show. But it was slow work, for the door was thick, and of hard material. Then too, the poker would get cool carrying it from the stove to the portal.

But Jess worked like an Amazon. Back and forth she went with the hot iron, burning herself several times when it slipped. But she gave small heed to this. She wanted to save the ship and the honor of her uncle, who might be blamed for losing control of the lighthouse.

Hole after hole was burned. Now Ned began trying to knock out the piece of door containing the lock. He found a small stone and hammered on the weakened wood. But it was still too strong for the feeble instrument he had.

“Ten more holes and I think it will come out,” the girl whispered.

Out on the deep, struggling through the storm which had suddenly broken, was a large steamer, laden with a rich cargo. There were not many passengers, as it was from a South American port, but these few, as well as the crew, had no warning of the danger that threatened them.

In the bow stood the lookout, scanning the expanse of angry water for a sight of lighthouses and headlands that would indicate the channel up the dangerous coast. Suddenly off to his left there shot out two brilliant red flashes.

“North light two points off the port bow!” he called to the pilot.

“Lookout?” called the pilot.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Are you sure that’s the North light?”

“Aye, aye, sir. The south light shows a white flash and two red ones. These were only two red. There they are again, sir.”

“Yes, I see them,” as once more the false lights flashed across the sea. “We must have passed the South light while the weather was thicker. I’ll have to put her in a bit.”

Then the pilot, deceived by the light, steered the vessel over toward the ledge of dangerous rocks, instead of keeping out, as he would have done, had the two red flashes been preceded by a white one.

But in the lighthouse three brave boys and as brave a girl, were striving to aid the ill-fated steamer. Would they be in time?

Jess made hole after hole, though her arms ached, her eyes smarted with the smoke, and her hands were burned in a number of places.

Again and again Ned beat with his stone on the wood around the lock. The circle of holes was complete at last.

“It’s giving away! It’s loosening!” cried the boy. He struck with all his force. The stone flew from his hand, and fell through the opening that suddenly appeared. The lock had been burned away, and the heavy door swung inward. The boys were free.

“Now to change the lights!” cried Jerry, as, followed by his chums he dashed toward the winding stairs that led to where the big lantern lenses revolved.

At that instant the door of the kitchen flew open and Mr. Hardack entered, wild and disheveled, dripping water from the storm which was now raging at its height.