Each time the lighthouse beacon swept around in its circle, it cast a
temporary glow upon the road, making walking easy. When they reached the
base of the lighthouse, they noticed several other shadowy forms moving
about.
“That you, mates?” Old Captain Daniels stepped out to meet them.
“Hello, Captain Daniels,” Eddie greeted. “It’s us, all right. Our
fathers are with us.”
Captain Daniels shook hands with the two men. “Quite a party they’re
planning out here, isn’t it?” he said, seeming to relish the excitement.
“Apparently,” Eddie’s father said. “Although we don’t know just what
they’re planning.”
“You will, you will,” said Captain Daniels. “But right now I’ve got to
check my light. Darker’n a ship’s hold with a cargo of tar paper
tonight, it is. Won’t be much to see—until things start poppin’. Might
be a good idea to sit there in front of my cottage and watch down the
coast. Just don’t light any matches, or make undue noise. If you spot
any strange lights, things may start happening. I probably won’t see you
for a while. Can’t stop the light unless I’m up top.” He turned and
started up the spiraling stairs.
“Stop the light?” Eddie said. “I wonder what Cap meant by that?”
“I don’t know,” his father said. “I suppose you can stop those lights
from turning in a circle if you want to. Don’t know why anyone would
want to, though. After all, the beam is aimed rather high so it can be
seen by ships far off the coast.”
They waited over an hour. Except for the gentle sound of waves lapping
the shore below, and a throbbing Coast Guard plane passing by on its
patrol, an eerie silence filled the night. Looking seaward, there was
nothing to see but solid blackness. Three times each minute the beacon
from the lighthouse swept a path of white through the sky. Since it was
aimed high, the beam didn’t touch the water in the bay.
“If anything is happening out there,” Eddie said, “how are we going to
know about it?”
“I’ve been wondering that myself,” his father replied.
“You’d think they would spot some search-lights along the beach or
something,” Mr. Ross said.
“They couldn’t very well do that, Tom,” Mr. Taylor said. “They would
risk tipping off the whole trap. That Evans fellow impressed me as
knowing what to do. His is a big responsibility, and there certainly
wasn’t much time to weigh and measure things, but—”
“Look!” Teena said suddenly. “Isn’t that a light down there?”
Eddie’s eyes followed the direction of her outstretched arm.
“It sure is!” he said, dropping his voice to a tense whisper. “It’s
flashing on and off!”
The light was only a pinpoint in the distance. It flicked off and on in
a pattern of dots and dashes which Eddie guessed was some kind of a
code. The beam was directed seaward.
“Eddie,” Teena said, “isn’t that light about where the old fisherman’s
shack is?”
“I think so,” Eddie said, trying to judge in the darkness about how far
down the coast the shack was from the lighthouse.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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