"True for you, Sonny; but s'posen the kitchen was lookin' like all possessed on that pertic'lar day? I keep it put to rights as much of the time as I can, an' then I don't stand any chance of bein' caught nappin'."
Then Uncle Zenas went to work with a will, positively refusing all offers of assistance from Sidney, and, finally, the lad went into the watch-room, where he read about lenses and the refraction of light until he despaired of ever thoroughly understanding the subjects.
At noon there were no signs of the keepers' return, but Uncle Zenas declared the dory would "heave in sight" within the next two hours, and proposed that they "have a bite to stay their stomachs," deferring a regular dinner until all the crew were together once more.
"I don't want even a bite now," Sidney said decidedly. "Do you suppose Captain Eph would be displeased if I carried the glasses into the watch-room?"
"Not a bit of it, Sonny. Use 'em wherever you please, an' I'm allowin,' if you keep a sharp lookout, you'll see the dory inside of half an hour."
Then Sidney climbed the narrow stairs with the glasses held carefully under his arm, and twenty minutes had not elapsed before he could see, far away in the distance, what looked like a toy boat manned by a miniature crew.
"They're coming, Uncle Zenas! They're coming!" he shouted, and the cook replied:
"I reckoned it was about time they'd be showin' up, an' have jest put on the potatoes. Dinner'll be ready when they get here."
Sidney watched through the glasses until he could distinguish the features of both the keepers, and as he gazed Captain Eph waved his hand to show that he had seen the little lad in the window of the tower.
Then Sidney ran down-stairs and out on the ledge, standing at the head of the narrow cove as the dory rounded the rocks, while Mr. Peters shouted: