A little later they were knocking on the door of the small cottage built at the side of the big tower, in the top of which flashed the warning beacon.
"Come in," called a girl's voice, and the boys entered. They found themselves in a pleasant room, where sat John Floyd, the keeper of the light, and his wife and daughter. It was evidently the daughter, a girl of about twelve years, who had invited the boys to enter, for she rose to welcome them, saying:
"I think I know you—Mr. Salina told me about you, and said you might come over to see us. Father, these are the boys from Barnacle Cottage. This is my mother and father," she went on, with a smile.
"I hope you don't mind us calling," spoke Bob. "Mr. Salina said visitors were allowed, and we wanted to see how the light worked."
"Glad to have you!" exclaimed Mr. Floyd, who was proud of his light. "And night is the best time to come to see the machinery working. Now let me get the straight of you—what are your names?"
The boys introduced themselves, and learned that the daughter's name was Lucy. She offered to take them through the tower, and led the way to the spiral stairs.
"Our light isn't a very big one," she said, "but it shows the ships where the dangerous rocks are, and I suppose that's all that is needed."
"Does it work by electricity?" asked Frank.
"No, it's an oil light," answered Lucy. "And father has to work all night to keep it trimmed and bright, and to see that the oil does not give out."
"It must be hard work," ventured Sammy.