"Of course I did. What else do you reckon I went after? Now we'll soon know if there's a light on that island of Porto Rico."
Captain Eph had not pored over the pages of the report many minutes, before he looked up at his mates in dismay, as he said:
"What do you think, boys? There's no less than fourteen lights on the blessed place, an' it must be quite an island. Now we're up a tree for sure!"
"If I was the keeper of this 'ere light I'd make an official report to the inspector, of how the lad came to the ledge, an' ask the Government to hunt up the father," Uncle Zenas said quietly. "I ain't so certain that it's the Government's business to go 'round huntin' for stray fathers; but it seems to me, seem's how he landed on this 'ere ledge, an' is stayin' here, the least them as are at Washington could do would be to take one end of the job, if we're willin' to handle the other."
"You've hit the nail right on the head, Uncle Zenas!" and Captain Eph gravely shook his second assistant by the hand. "I'll make a report, an' from this on, till we decide upon somethin' better, all hands are to be on the lookout for a craft that can be hailed."
"If you're goin' to settle down to a spell of writin', an' I'm allowin' it won't be any small job to put the thing together ship-shape, I'll see what can be done toward patchin' up the boy's boat," Mr. Peters said as if making a suggestion. "If we get any good weather, an' the motor is in fair shape, it mightn't be very much of a trip to run across."
"Get at it, Sammy, get at it. Seems to me I'm the only one in this 'ere crew that don't rightly know what to do," and once more Captain Eph crept softly to his own room in search of writing materials.
Half an hour later the keeper and his assistants were busily engaged on their respective tasks. Captain Eph sat in the watch-room laboring over his report; Uncle Zenas was cooking as if his very life depended upon getting the largest amount of provisions prepared for eating in the shortest possible space of time, and on the rocks Mr. Peters was measuring and figuring on the shattered boat, confident that he could soon put her in a seaworthy condition, provided he should be able to find the proper material.
The cook was spearing doughnuts out of a kettle of hot fat with a long-handled fork, bringing into play all his professional knowledge to the end that each one should be of the proper color and degree of crispness, when he was startled so badly that he actually squeaked, by hearing a light footstep on the floor directly behind him.
"I'll be roasted if I didn't think you was a ghost!" he cried as, turning quickly, he saw Sidney standing near the foot of the staircase. "Why didn't you stay in bed, lad, since that's where you belong for the next four an' twenty hours?"