"Yes, he's our little boy," said the lighthouse keeper, who was "Father Moore." "We live here together and keep the light."
"Don't you get lonely?" Paul asked Dick.
"Oh, no," said Dick, "I have a great many things to play with. See!" And he pointed to a big table near his chair. On it were many small toys. There was a farm with fences, houses, horses, cows, and chickens. There were people too—a man, a woman, and two children. Everything was made of clay. There was a tall clay lighthouse and around it were clay ships and boats.
"What splendid toys," said Paul. "Did Santa Claus bring them?"
"I made them myself," said Dick proudly. "My back and legs aren't much good but my fingers do whatever I want them to. Whenever I am lonely I think of something to make and then my fingers make it. I think," he went on laughing, "I'll make you and your father after you have gone."
Paul hated to leave the lighthouse and brave little Dick. But he and Daddy had to go as soon as the storm was over. They knew Mrs. Ray would be greatly worried about them.
"I'll write to you," said Paul to Dick, "and I'll send you some of my books with pictures in them. Then you can make more things."
How glad Paul's mother was when her little boy and his daddy reached home. That night she came in to tuck him snugly in bed.
"Is my little boy sorry this is his last night at Fairport?" she asked.
"No, Mother," said Paul. "I hate to leave Captain John, and the cave, and the beach, and the ocean; but I want to get home. I want to see Bob and Betty and Peggy and Dot. I want them to help me do something for Dick."