Uncle Zenas was able to hobble around fairly well, and, with a certain amount of assistance from Sidney, attended to the greater portion of the cook's duties; but neither of the men had attempted to ascend the stairs.
Never for a moment had Mr. Peters faltered in his efforts to atone for his deceit. It was as if each day he tried the harder to perform more work, or minister to the comfort of his comrades, until Captain Eph said privately to Sidney that "Sammy's trip on the raft had worked a wonderful change."
On the morning of the sixth day after the combination of accidents, there was a break in the monotony, which excited the invalids greatly.
Mr. Peters, who had been in the lantern attending to some trifling duty, came down-stairs at a rapid pace as he cried:
"The light-house tender is headin' this way, not more'n two miles away, an' makin' heavy weather of it!"
In a twinkling the room was a scene of the greatest excitement. Captain Eph, forgetting his injured limb, attempted to spring to his feet, but sank back quickly with a groan, and Uncle Zenas, thinking only that the inspector might not be pleased at seeing beds in the kitchen, bent over to gather up the clothing, when the partially healed burns caused him to straighten up again as a cry of pain escaped his lips.
"What is the matter?" Sidney asked in surprise, not understanding why the announcement that the tender was coming toward the ledge should have so startled the two men.
"Matter, Sonny!" Captain Eph cried. "Why most likely the inspector is comin' on one of his reg'lar visits, an' what'll he say if he finds Uncle Zenas an' me off duty, so to speak?"
"I don't see why you need bother about him," Sidney began; but before he could finish the statement, Mr. Peters cried:
"Of course you don't, Sonny, 'cause you never was here when he overhauled everything on the ledge as if he expected we allers left 'em at sixes an' sevens."