"It'll be better to roll more casks down," Bob said quickly. "Never mind the work, so long as we can hail that craft."
No one cared how much labor might be involved providing the desired result was gained, and all hands ran swiftly up the beach to where the Bonita's cargo lay half buried in the sand. It was as much as the three boys could do to roll a heavy cask over the shingle; but they worked manfully while Bob and Joe struggled with another, and in a few moments after the first two signals had died out they were replaced by fresh supplies of this costly fuel.
During the next three hours every member of the party tugged and pulled and lifted with a feverish energy born of the knowledge that their chances of being rescued depended upon the exertions made, and then it was not possible to longer continue the task. All were so exhausted that further efforts were absolutely out of the question, and Bob said, as he wiped away the perspiration which ran down his face in tiny streams:
"It's no use, lads. What with the divin' an' this last job, I'm tuckered out. If she don't pay any attention to us after all this glare we couldn't make 'em stop by telling the whole story."
"Perhaps she has already passed," Harry suggested, as he choked back a sob. "The rate at which that schooner was sailing when we last saw her would have brought her here long before this."
"For all we can tell she may be hove-to half a mile off the shore," Bob said consolingly. "A captain would need know this shoal mighty well to run in here on a night so black as this one."
"They've got the lights to guide them;" and from the tone of Walter's voice it could be understood he was giving way to despair.
"That wouldn't do them any good, for these flames only illumine this portion of the coast, and throw the entrance of the harbor into deeper shadow," Joe said, speaking for the first time since the labors were brought to a close. "Besides, there are such things as false lights kindled for the purpose of wrecking vessels, and any careful captain would most likely want to wait for daylight; but he might at least send a boat ashore."
This last portion of the engineer's remarks took from the boys any consolation they might have found in his speculations, and they seated themselves on the sand very wretched both in body and mind.
The beacons expired one by one, and the last was but a feeble, flickering flame when the report of fire-arms rang out sharp and distinct on the still air, causing every member of that mournful party to spring to his feet in alarm.