“But never in such a sea as is running to-night,” sighed Tom Halstead. “Even as the water is, I’d like to chance it, but I’m afraid it would be useless. And it would leave Mr. Seaton and the doctor alone against any surprise.”
“I’d swim that far, or drown, even in this sea,” muttered Dawson, vengefully, “if I had any idea that our boat lay over that way.”
For two or three minutes the boys stood there, talking. Not once did Tom Halstead turn his eyes away from the direction of the island to the southward.
“Look there!” the young skipper finally uttered, clutching at Joe’s elbow. “Did you see that?”
“Yes,” voiced Joe, in instant excitement.
“That” was a tiny glow of light, made small by the distance.
“It’s a lantern, being carried by someone,” continued Captain Tom, after a breathless pause. “There—it vanishes! Oh, I say—gracious!”
Joe, too, gave a gasp.
As for Hank Butts, that youth commenced to breathe so hard that there was almost a rattle to his respiration. 58
Immediately following the disappearance of the distant light, four smaller, dimmer lights appeared, in a row.