Suddenly Alec heard the captain's voice. "Come in here, youngster. I want to talk with you."
Alec made his way through the cabin into the pilot-house, which was just deep enough to allow a person to stand comfortably or to sit on a stool. The floor of the pilot-house was considerably higher than the deck level, and Alec could see much better here. Also, it was warm. And although he had been so fascinated by the scene that he had momentarily forgotten about the weather, he now realized that he had been cold out on the deck.
A flash of light caught his eye. Then another light blinked at a much greater distance. "What are those lights?" Alec asked the captain.
"Those are the range-lights, to show the way into the harbor. And off there you can see East Point Light."
Alec followed the pointing finger of the captain and saw, off the port bow, a third light gleaming.
"We seem to be catching those fellows ahead," commented Alec.
"I reckon they're stuck in the mud," said the captain. "This northeast wind's been blowing hard for eighteen hours. It will make pretty low water."
"How much water does the Bertha B draw?" inquired Alec.
"Four or five feet," said the captain.