Benny immediately removed the coat he had put on; but it could readily be seen that he was sorely disappointed at thus being advised to remain in the station, for advice from the keeper was to him nothing less than a positive command. “It’ll grieve him mightily to be here while we’re at work,” Sam Hardy whispered to Mr. Downey, and the latter replied: “It’s easier for him to feel sorry than to be knocking around with us all night, for I’m thinkin’ this is a job that ain’t soon to be ended.” “It won’t be as hard for him as to stay here with the cook. No. 8 ain’t a lad who’s afraid of work, as he’s shown us every day since he came.” Tom Downey hesitated a moment, and then said slowly, as does one who is not certain that he speaks wisely: “If you had rather take the chances with us, when we’re setting out to do nothing more than get a lot of scows into shape, come along, Benny. It was only in order to save you a long spell of hard work that I proposed you should stay behind.” “If it don’t make any difference to you, sir, I’d much rather go,” Benny replied in a low tone. “It wouldn’t seem that I really was No. 8 if the crew went away without me.” “Get into your oil-skins, since you’re so greedy for hard work, lad, an’ we’ll start. You’ll see this night the dullest piece of drudgery that life savers were ever put to.” Benny’s face was actually aglow with pleasure when this permission had been given, and before the foremost of the crew could leave the mess-room he was clad in his oiled clothing, eager to share whatever might be the portion of his comrades. To the boy’s delight, the life-boat was to be used for the work. He had never been on board of her, and it would indeed have seemed hard had this opportunity been denied him. Not until the buoyant craft had been pulled out beyond the point did No. 8 realize that in his weather predictions Sam Hardy had made a failure. The wind was blowing freshly from the northeast, the rain was falling, and the waves had risen until the heavy boat was flung about like a cork. The crew plied their oars in silence; all evidently looked upon the work of securing the lighters in exactly the same light as did Tom Downey--as drudgery,--and there was nothing to animate them. If a vessel with a crew on board had been in distress, each man would have been on the alert and eager, straining every muscle without thought of fatigue, instead of which they were now dispirited. Not until they were within fifty yards of the lighter which lay nearest the point, could Benny distinguish any object on the rolling waters, and then he began to understand how difficult a task had the crew taken upon themselves.