Ned sprang at the assailant of the keeper. The fellow stepped back. He had lost the use of one arm from the blow of the poker. Ned grabbed his other hand and bore him to the stone floor. There was a hard struggle, but Ned held on. Mr. Hardack, recovering from the blow on his head, came to the boy’s aid.
In the meanwhile Jerry and Bob had attacked the other man. He kept them at bay for a little while by waving the big wrench back and forth in front of him. The boys tried to dodge in but could not. Then Jerry suddenly fell to the floor. Before the man knew what was up the boy had reached forward, under the swinging tool, and grabbed the man by the legs. He gave a strong yank, and the wrecker went down in a heap. Bob threw himself on top of him.
For several seconds there was a hard struggle. Both scoundrels tried to break away, but the boys and the keeper were too much for them. At last they were quiet.
“The light! The light!” cried Mr. Hardack. “We must set the right light!”
“I’ll do it, uncle!” exclaimed Jess, running into the room. She had been hiding on the stairs, waiting the outcome of the struggle. “I’ll set the right light!”
She leaped over the prostrate body of the man her uncle and Ned were holding down. Into the lantern room she went.
It was the work of but an instant to rip from the big white lens, the black piece of paper the men had pasted over it to conceal the flashes. She threw it on the floor.
Then out through the storm, over the tempestuous sea, there flashed the right signal,—a white glow, followed by two red ones.
“Oh, that it may be in time to save the ship!” the girl prayed.
Out on the deep the big steamer pitched and tossed in the grip of the waves. The lookout was scanning the blackness for the sight of the next lighthouse. Suddenly there flashed across his eyes a white shaft of illumination, followed by two red ones. The pilot saw them at the same time.