No signal was shown in response. Either the ship was still too far out to catch sight of the warning beacon, or none of her crew was on deck at the moment. The glowing torch sputtered and went out, and with a shrug of his broad shoulders, Downs trudged on down the beach.
“Come on, kids, we’ll set off another light farther on,” he said. “If that’s really a ship, give her a few minutes to watch for signals.”
In awed suspense, Hugh and Billy followed him to the end of Red Key. Chained to a post driven in the sand, they found a stout dory with two pairs of oars.
“Pile in,” said Downs, “and sit tight. Hardin, you take one pair of oars, I’ll take t’other, and we’ll be over on the next key in a jiffy.”
The crossing was soon made. Billy tied the boat to another post, while Downs again lighted a signal. They were still near enough the station to notify the lookout there of a possible ship in distress, and in a few minutes they caught the gleam of the big lamp in the tower, shining out through the vapor blown from the crests of the waves.
Still no sign from the object of their concern.
“Look!” cried Hugh. “It can’t be a cloud; it hasn’t changed its shape, and——”
“And it seems to be comin’ nearer,” added Downs, interrupting him quickly. “You’re right, son; it’s a sailing vessel. She’s being blown landward, but with good luck, she’ll slip past the bar out there, and maybe she’ll make for the lee o’ Turtle Island. Watch and see. Come on,—but we won’t hike over the pontoon to-night. I’ll go alone.”
Through long vigils in all kinds of weather, the patrol learns every foot of his beat thoroughly, and he is able to tell with reasonable accuracy how and where a storm-tossed vessel will be driven, or where a stranded one lies. Downs was no exception to this rule, yet there were times when, experienced surfman as he was, he felt uncertain whether a ship was likely to be forced over on the mainland beach, or whether she would run aground on the outer bar at the end of the keys. The latter situation was the more to be dreaded, for the bar was far beyond the reach of a line shot from shore.
Deciding to continue his beat, Downs left the two scouts seated together on a mound of sand and driftwood, and made his way alone across the swaying, tossing pontoon.