"Well, they ought to light up now. It's dark enough," opined Jack. "By the way," he went on, "wasn't it from that lighthouse that they drove off the gang that has been wrecking vessels by displaying false lights?"
"Yes. The men visited the light just as an increased force of lighthouse keepers had been put on, owing to the number of wrecks that have happened recently from the operations of this gang. They were driven off. But they had a swift tug and escaped. The authorities have been looking for them since."
"If the newspapers are right, it is the same outfit that has been operating on all the Great Lakes."
"Yes. It's a new and up-to-date method of piracy, as the police claim. The gang engaged in it wrecks vessels by means of changing or extinguishing lights, and then raids the cargo. It is dastardly business!"
"Well, I should say so!"
At this point the professor and Sandy came on deck.
"Hoot mon!" exclaimed the Scotch youth, "it's as dark as an unco' dark tunnel."
"It resembles midnight," put in the professor, who had, by this time, removed the traces of his encounter with the ink bottle.
The four, who were the only ones on board the Sea Ranger, stood side by side on the bridge, holding tightly to the hand-rail to avoid being thrown off their feet.
"D'ye ken if it'ull get wurss?" asked Sandy presently.