“She be heavy tonight,” he muttered, “or maybe the wind be rocking them cars.”
The humming of the rails was not audible up there but the white light grew and grew and soon Bill was out on the track waving his lantern. And then, above the roaring of the wind, sounded the shrill, imperative blasts of the locomotive whistle, followed more faintly by the jangle and bumping of the freight cars as the brakes were set, and the long train came to a stop some distance down the track. Bill Glass seized his lantern and started off toward it and Jack, his knees quaking, followed as best he could. But when he too reached the engine the engineer was already making ready to go on and he had to seek another barrel platform with Bill Glass and wait while car after car went clattering, jarring by. When the rear light had passed Bill piloted the way back. By this time Jack had become fairly adept at walking a trestle in a fifty mile gale, although he was heartily glad when Bill stopped and climbed down to the ground again. Once more on the path it was possible to talk and be heard, and Jack asked anxiously;
“Will they tell the life savers?”
“Jim said he’d stop at the section house a mile below here and telephone to town. Jim’s got two sons at sea himself and he won’t forget, mate.”
There was no more said until they reached the cabin again, which was no slight task, since the wind was more in their faces going back. But finally the welcome gleam of the light met them and they staggered into the shelter of the building and pushed open the door. Hal was fast asleep in a chair and Bee, the yellow cat in his lap, was only half awake.
“I thought you’d walked into the river or lost your way,” he said with relief. “Old Hal’s asleep, isn’t he? Wake up, Hal!”
Bill Glass said it might be two hours before life savers would reach the wreck and set about making some coffee. He soon had the fire started and the kettle filled with water. The boys could not but admire the deft way in which he accomplished things, even Hal acknowledging grudgingly afterwards that “the old pirate was no fool.” As Bill busied himself about the stove Jack told how they had been awakened by the sound of the cannon and how they had gone out to locate the wreck, afterwards speeding up the river in the launch until a sudden gust had rammed her bow into the bank.
“We’ll have a sip o’ coffee,” said Bill, “an’ then we’ll take the dory an’ go back there to your boat. Likely we can pull her off.”
When the coffee was ready they each drank a cupful of it and, although their host offered them no milk for it, it warmed and invigorated them. Afterwards they got into the dory under the little wharf and, Bill at the oars, and two lanterns to light them, went slowly down the narrow stream. They reached the launch in almost no time at all and Bill again took command of the situation. Hal was directed to start the engine and keep her at neutral. Then the stern was pushed off and the propeller was started slowly at reverse. Bill clambered to the bank, braced himself and pushed, while Bee and Jack shoved on the oars, and in a moment the Corsair was free again. Bill hitched his dory astern and, since there was not room there to turn the launch about in, directed Jack to go on up the stream for a ways. How in that blackness, Bill Glass could tell one place from another, was a mystery, but in a minute he ordered the engine stopped and, taking an oar, soon had the launch headed down stream. Then they set off for the island once more. Bill spoke only once on the journey. Then making a trumpet of his hands, he shouted across to Hal at the engine;