"Hold on there!" he cried. "That's some more of your wild imagination, Sammy."
"Wreckers! Who ever heard of wreckers?" Bob wanted to know.
"I did!" exclaimed Sammy. "I'm sure they've put out the light!"
"How could they?" asked Bob. "Mr. Floyd has been there all the while."
"They—they overpowered him," said Sammy, hesitating a bit over the long word.
"Well, what about his wife and daughter?" Frank wanted to know. "I guess they wouldn't let any wreckers put out the light."
"Mrs. Floyd and Lucy are away this evening," said Sammy. "I saw them go past our cottage. They said they were going to the moving picture show over in town, and would stay all night with some relations. It's all a plot—that's what it is! The wreckers knew Mr. Floyd would be alone."
Bob and Frank looked at Sammy a little differently now. It was true that the wife and daughter of the light-keeper had gone away. The two chums remembered this, now that Sammy had recalled it to their mind. The keeper was alone in the tower.
And certainly something must have happened, for the light was out, and as the boys raced toward it they glanced up, every now and then, hoping to see the bright beams flashing. But the tower remained in darkness.
As they ran on they saw a light flashing along the path ahead of them. It swayed from side to side, and flickered so the boys easily guessed that it was a lantern being carried by someone.