"Thank you: I've made a mistake in supposing his name was Jones," said the Scout, and saluting he left the shop. "I say, old fellow," exclaimed Simpson. "What's the move? You don't know anyone called Jones living about here, I feel certain." "Neither do I," agreed Atherton calmly. "I only wanted to find out who that fellow was. He may be the man who paid a night visit to Seal Island." "Of course he may be, but there are ever so many chances that he may not be," said the Leader of the "Wolves." "One thing I noticed: he was not wearing indiarubber shoes." "It is not at all unusual for a man to change his shoes more than once in a day," remarked Atherton. "It was his walk that I noticed. He has big feet, yet he took very short steps. The suspicious way in which he looked over his shoulder did not impress me very favourably." Before any more could be said the two Leaders separated to rejoin their respective patrols, and the ascent of the cliff path commenced. It was a tedious tramp up and down, as the route descended almost to the sea-level in order to traverse the numerous small streams that found their way into the bay. Five times the lighthouse was hidden by intervening ground ere the Scouts drew up at the whitewashed stone wall enclosing the lighthouse and the keepers' houses adjoining. The lighthouse men were most painstaking in their task of explaining everything to their young guests. The clockwork and manual-worked machinery for actuating the occulting light, the ingenious construction of the lenses of the lantern, the usual and the emergency means of supplying its illumination--all were in turn shown to the Scouts, none of whom had ever been in a lighthouse before. "Bill!" exclaimed one of the keepers in the midst of a technical discourse. "It's coming on thick. You can't see the Island already. Throw me the key of the rocket store." The keeper addressed as Bill handed over the required article, and then drew back the curtains of the lantern room, which, during the day, were always kept closed in order to prevent the rays of the sun from damaging the dioptric lenses of the lantern. A sea-fog--another sign of an approaching storm--had banked up with considerable rapidity. Wreaths of vapour were curling over the waters of Seal Bay, while, as the keeper had announced, the Island itself was quite lost to view. "This'll give you a chance to see how we work the explosive fog-signals," remarked the man, as he hauled down a fishing-rod-like apparatus from outside the lighthouse. "Here are the charges--gun-cotton, fired electrically; two every five minutes." Securing the two cartridges to the forked ends of the rod, the keeper hoisted the latter to its former position and touched a key. A sharp crack, that in the outer air resembled the discharge of a seven-pounder, announced that the first of the warning signals had been fired. Ten seconds later the second was discharged, and the keeper lowered the holder to recharge it.