"I came over here several times with my father, last year," said Felix: "we used to come over whenever we had company, to show them the ocean and lighthouse. I have seen the man who keeps the lighthouse so many times, that I think he will remember me."
Still no one came to the door.
"They can't hear, on account of the surf," said Johnny.
"Let's both pound together, then."
So both of the boys rapped as loudly as they could upon the door, with both hands.
"The lighthouse-keeper has a boy about seventeen years old," said Felix. "He told me there was an awful undertow here. I hope he will come to the door, for I am sure he will remember me."
"Who is it?" asked a youthful voice inside the door. At first the boys could not distinguish the words; but after shouting back, and putting their cars close to the door, they soon made out the repeated inquiry, although it sounded very faint.
"We're two boys who have lost our way!" called back Johnny.
"I'm Felix Le Bras, from one of the cottages on the beach!" sang out Felix, in a loud tone. "I know the folks here, and I want to come in and inquire the way home."
The door was opened a very little way, and a soft, timid voice said,—