“She ain't forgot nothin',” broke in Seth. “But YOU'RE forgettin' what I told you. Will you go aft there and set down, or shall I make you?”
“But—but, Emeline—sister—have you forgotten your promise to your dying husband? To my brother? You promised to give me a home as long as you owned one.”
Then Seth played his trump.
“She don't own any home,” he declared triumphantly. “She sold her house, and she ain't got any home—except the one I'm goin' to give her. And if you ever dare to show your head inside of THAT, I'll—I'll heave you over both lights. If you think I'm foolin', just try and see. Now then, Emeline.”
And, with his wife in his arms, Seth Atkins—Seth Atkins Bascom—CAPTAIN Seth Atkins Bascom—swung over the rail and waded to land.
CHAPTER XVI
THE EBB TIDE
“John Brown,” his long night's vigil over, extinguished the lights in the two towers, descended the iron stairs, and walked across the yard into the kitchen. His first move, after entering the house, was to ring the telephone bell and endeavor to call Eastboro. He was anxious concerning Atkins. Seth had not returned, and the substitute assistant was certain that some accident must have befallen him. The storm had been severe, but it would take more than weather to keep the lightkeeper from his post; if he was all right he would have managed to return somehow.
Brown rang the bell time and time again, but got no response. The storm had wrecked the wires, that was certain, and that means of communication was cut off. He kindled the fire in the range and tried to forget his anxiety by preparing breakfast. When it was prepared he waited a while and then sat down to a lonely meal. But he had no appetite, and, after dallying with the food on his plate, gave it up and went outside to look about him.