However, everyone felt anxious. The men were dividing their watches as usual in order to keep the light in prime order throughout the night. At last word came that the sponger had struck on the nearby shoals. Instantly all was hustle and prompt action in the lighthouse. All but one of the men, followed by Roy Norton and the four scouts, lanterns in hand, hurried down to the scene of the wreck.
“They must have been too close to the light and miscalculated their distance,” said Bowling, throwing a coil of rope over his shoulder. “In the darkness it’s quite possible to do that. Even experienced seamen have made that mistake.
“Men,” he added, a moment later, “I’m going back to the house and rig a block to a bar across the east window of the tower. By overhauling all the spare line in the storeroom, I’ll get enough to make a tackle that will reach from that window well down into the water.”
“Yes, but what then?” Hugh asked breathlessly. “What will that do, sir?”
“With the loose end—well padded so it won’t cut—belayed under the arms, there’ll be a good chance for some one to go out into the surf and carry the line to those poor devils out there. And then I——”
“Oh, Captain!” cried Hugh eagerly. “Let me go! I’m light, I can swim, and I’m not a bit afraid of the rough water. Say, Mr. Bowling, let me go!”
“You, my boy! Not much! You must be crazy!”
The other men protested against Hugh taking such a risk.
“Lad, you don’t know what it would be to swim out there in these rough shoals! It takes a heavier chap than you to do the stunt,” said one man gravely.
“Why, you’d be battered around like a cork by these waves,” said another. “Any moment you might be dashed on a hidden reef and——”