There was a sound outside other than that made by the gale and sea. Lorna heard it, too. She sprang up, but Tobias was first at the door. He opened it with care, for fear the wind would suck in and put out the lamp. "Ahoy!" bawled a voice from the road. "There’s somebody in trouble out there, sure’s you’re a foot high, Lorny," the lightkeeper observed. "Fetch me my slicker. Got to see what they want." He was out in half a minute, answering the hail in stentorian tones. The girl held the door open a crack to peer forth. She made out the bulk of some object in the roadway before the lighthouse door; but the wind whipped the flying sand into her face and she was forced to withdraw. By and by there was a fumbling at the door. It was flung open and there appeared the wind-blown figure of the detective, his long rain-coat flapping about his legs. From outside Tobias bawled: "You’ll have to back around and run down to Ez Condon’s, Rafe. His shed’s the only shelter, I cal’late, that there is for a car. That’s where Zeke keeps his when he’s up here to the light." Tobias clumped into the house. His face was quite as grim as that of the visitor. "You’ve heard of the bad penny, Lorna," the lightkeeper said with sarcasm. "Here it is. Road’s all torn up and they can’t get that car of Arad’s through to Clinkerport to-night." "I am sorry to have to take advantage of your hospitality, Mr. Bassett," sneered the visitor. "I cal’late you be," returned Tobias dryly. "But that’s your own fault. You’ve made yourself sort o’ disliked around here, and I’m frank to tell you so. But I wouldn’t leave a dog stay out such weather as this. And Rafe—— "Why, do you know, Lorna," he added, turning to the girl. "Rafe Silver’s got his hand in a sling. Broke his wrist, or something, trying to crank that big car down there to the station. The self-starter wouldn’t work. Lucky old Cap Edgar is no slouch of a bone-setter." "Oh, I’m sorry!" cried the girl. "But what about the _Nelly G._?" she added, her hands clasped, and looking pleadingly from the lightkeeper to the detective. The latter appreciated her emotion now. He answered in a much more sympathetic tone than he had used when he was previously at the lighthouse. "She is still out there, and is not, they tell me, in immediate danger. If the gale drops she will be all right." "But what’s happened to her?" demanded Tobias. "Don’t they know at the life-saving station?" "They made out her signals during the day. She lost her rudder, and they can’t ship another in these seas." "Oh, sugar! I should say they couldn’t," agreed Tobias. "She may pull through all right. They think her skipper is hoping to get into Clinkerport." "I cal’late," observed Tobias nodding. "Well, Lorny, I reckon we can take hope of grace. If Bob Pritchett can beat off these sands till he claws around the p’int of the Twin Rocks, he’ll make Clinkerport Bay, of course."