“Lookout?” called the pilot.
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Are you sure that’s the North light?”
“Aye, aye, sir. The south light shows a white flash and two red ones. These were only two red. There they are again, sir.”
“Yes, I see them,” as once more the false lights flashed across the sea. “We must have passed the South light while the weather was thicker. I’ll have to put her in a bit.”
Then the pilot, deceived by the light, steered the vessel over toward the ledge of dangerous rocks, instead of keeping out, as he would have done, had the two red flashes been preceded by a white one.
But in the lighthouse three brave boys and as brave a girl, were striving to aid the ill-fated steamer. Would they be in time?
Jess made hole after hole, though her arms ached, her eyes smarted with the smoke, and her hands were burned in a number of places.
Again and again Ned beat with his stone on the wood around the lock. The circle of holes was complete at last.
“It’s giving away! It’s loosening!” cried the boy. He struck with all his force. The stone flew from his hand, and fell through the opening that suddenly appeared. The lock had been burned away, and the heavy door swung inward. The boys were free.