“Mr. Hardy said about a mile; but I didn’t see any sign of a vessel, except when the little light showed itself.”
“You’ll need to go on patrol more than once, lad,” Joe Cushing said with a laugh, “before you’ll make much of a fist at seeing a craft a mile away on such a night as this.”
“I’ll get so I can in time, if you allow me to go out on patrol,” Benny replied confidently, and then, turning to the keeper, he added, “Mr. Hardy said I wasn’t to come back; but if there’s any message you’d like sent him, sir, I’m certain I can carry it.”
“Would you be willing to go through this storm from here to Skinner’s Point when there was no real need of it?”
“If there was a chance I might be of service, I’d be glad to, sir, and, besides, such work as that would be helping me along in learning a surfman’s duties.”
“It seems a cruel thing to do,” Downey said half to himself; “but I’ve a mind to let you go with us.”
“If you only would, sir!”
“What about leavin’ Fluff C. Foster alone? All hands of us, except the cook, must go.”
“Fluff will behave himself, I’m certain, for he doesn’t make any trouble when I tell him he must stay alone.”
“Thaw yourself a bit by the fire while we’re getting the beach-wagon out, and then you shall do your share of the work, unless it so chances we’re forced to launch the boat.”