“I used to wonder how they could breathe, till I found out there were little air–holes in the top.”
“Sartin.”
“And this is the cart,” said Walter, nodding toward a stout hand–cart.
“Yes, and you see she is all packed for sarvice any moment.”
Here the keeper laid his broad, hard hand on the apparatus in the cart. There was the breeches buoy, consisting of a large cork ring, from which drooped very stout, but very short legs, or “breeches.” A Lyle gun, lighter than a mortar, and used for shooting a line to a wreck, projected its nozzle from the heap in the cart.
“There is the cartridge–box,” said Walter. “And I suppose of course the cartridges are there.”
“Yes, all ready, and two dozen primers are in there.”
“Pickaxe and shovel, and tackle and fall,” murmured Walter.
Yes, these were carried by the cart, and Walter saw little tally–boards, inscribed with directions to a shipwrecked crew, for the proper fastening of ropes to the vessel.
“Could I look into the closet where the Coston signals and rockets are?” inquired Walter.