"No, I'm sure something is going to happen here," insisted Sammy. "The light being out, for one thing, shows that, and the old man digging for pirate gold is another. But come on, fellows. Some ship may go on the rocks while we're talking here."
"There's no storm, that's one good thing," murmured Bob. "I thought wreckers only worked during a storm."
"Maybe they do things different here," said Sammy. "Come on!"
They started again toward the lighthouse, now and then looking up toward the tall tower in the hope of seeing the flashing beacon. But all was still darkness, save for the twinkling stars in the sky.
They started again toward the lighthouse.
They reached the cottage connected with the lighthouse. The door was open, but all was dark inside. For a moment the boys hesitated. Afterwards Bob and Frank admitted that they were thinking of the same thing Sammy was—that perhaps there was a trap, and that the wreckers were waiting for them.
Finally Frank called:
"Hello, Mr. Floyd! Are you there? What's the matter? Why isn't the light going?"
At first only a groaning voice answered them, and then they heard the stronger tones of the light-keeper crying out: