"Ahoy-oy-oy, there, in the light-house!" Rex shouted.
"Halloo-oo-oo!" Nick echoed.
Without wasting more time Rex seized the lantern and sprang up the iron
ladder with Nick close at his heels. With his first step on the narrow
platform Rex stumbled, but saved himself from falling by catching the
rail.
"Look out here!" he called; "there's something lying here that tripped
me." And he turned and held the lantern down.
"It's a man!" Nick exclaimed. "Hello, here, mister!" And he stooped down
and seized the man's arm and shook it. But there was no reply.
"We'll see to him later, Nick!" Rex cried; "the light's the first
thing;" and stepping over the man they both sprang up the steep iron
stairs. In a moment they were in the first room of the keeper's house.
It was empty and silent.
"Halloo-oo-oo!" both boys shouted.
"Here, here!" came back the answer, in a low, weak voice.
Instantly they fell to opening doors to look for the owner of the voice,
and Rex chanced upon the door opening upon the great spiral staircase
that winds up and up through a tower to the lantern. There in the little
passageway lay the principal keeper, groaning, coiled up in a heap, his
face covered with blood.
"Why, Mr. Pinder," Rex cried, "what's the--"
"The lamp, the lamp!" the keeper groaned. "Never mind--me. Light the
lamp! Matches on--on--the--table. Oh!" and amid his groans Rex managed
to catch the words; "open the small brass door; light all three wicks;
pull the lever to start the machinery!"
The boys waited to hear no more. Up they flew through the narrow iron
tower, up the 158 winding iron steps, round and round till their heads
swam, higher with every step, till they were in the little room beneath
the lantern, then up a few straight steps into the lantern itself.
Nick pressed the match-box into Rex's hand, and seized the knob of the
little brass door.
"It's for you to light the lamp, Rex," he said; "this is all your
doing."
Rex struck a match and touched it to the wicks, and cautiously pulled
the lever by his side.
Click, click! Whir, whir! came from the clock-work that moves the
machinery. The blaze sped around the three broad circles of wick.
Something began to revolve.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" The boys could not help it, even with the two injured
men lying below. For Alligator Light was burning again, sending its red
and white flashes over the black water every five seconds for the
comfort and safety of many a mariner at sea that stormy night!
To look after the injured keepers was the next work. They hurried down
the stairs, and when near the bottom they heard Mr. Pinder asking, in
his weak voice, full of pain:
"Is it burning? Is the lamp burning?"
"Yes, sir; the lamp is all right," the boys answered.
"Oh, God be praised for that!" he moaned. "No, never mind me," he went
on, as the boys stooped to pick him up. "My--partner. He's down--below
on the landing. I dragged him there after I--I--was hurt. Go see to
him."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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