“Round this way,” replied the keeper, who was pleased to notice that Walter knew so much about the apparatus at the station. He threw open a door, and a drawer also. In this closet, were various pyrotechnic treasures, serviceable with their brilliantly flashing fires for the work of the surfmen.
The store of curiosities in the boat–room had not been exhausted yet. Near the door of the living–room, was a row of shots that were adapted to the Lyle gun, one end to rest on the powder, and in the other end was a shank with an eye to which the line was fastened. On the left side of the room, was a four–wheeled carriage for the hauling of the boat. Hanging from the walls were ropes and oil suits. There was also another closet of supplies. There were patrol lanterns, colored signal lanterns, speaking trumpets, twenty–four pound shot for the mortars; and what serviceable piece of apparatus was not there?
“Glad to see you know so much about this ’ere room, Walter,” said the keeper.
“Oh, yes, I’ve found out what I could,” replied “Surfman Six.”
During any visit at the station, Walter had gone about with two observant eyes, and a tongue that was not ashamed to ask questions. What he learned, he packed away for use in his retentive memory.
“You remember your beat when your father let you go one night with Tom Walker?” said the keeper.
“Oh, yes.”
“All right. At the same time this evening, I’ll get you ready, and you can patrol that same side of the station.”
At eight o’clock, Walter stood before the keeper like a knight that some king was equipping and sending out for special service.
“I am all ready,” said the young surfman, his bright, hazel eyes flashing like two of “Uncle Sam’s” patrol lanterns on a dark night. He wore a cap that Aunt Lydia had lined with soft, warm flannel for this particular duty. His feet were encased in rough, but strong boots; and his clothes, though rough like the boots, were thick, with extra linings, furnished by the same feminine skill as that which lined his cap. He had buttoned up his stout fishing–jacket and now awaited the keeper’s orders.