Instantly they fell to opening doors to look for the owner of the voice, and Rex chanced upon the door opening upon the great spiral staircase that winds up and up through a tower to the lantern. There in the little passageway lay the principal keeper, groaning, coiled up in a heap, his face covered with blood.
"Why, Mr. Pinder," Rex cried, "what's the—"
"The lamp, the lamp!" the keeper groaned. "Never mind—me. Light the lamp! Matches on—on—the—table. Oh!" and amid his groans Rex managed to catch the words; "open the small brass door; light all three wicks; pull the lever to start the machinery!"
The boys waited to hear no more. Up they flew through the narrow iron tower, up the 158 winding iron steps, round and round till their heads swam, higher with every step, till they were in the little room beneath the lantern, then up a few straight steps into the lantern itself.
Nick pressed the match-box into Rex's hand, and seized the knob of the little brass door.
"It's for you to light the lamp, Rex," he said; "this is all your doing."
Rex struck a match and touched it to the wicks, and cautiously pulled the lever by his side.
Click, click! Whir, whir! came from the clock-work that moves the machinery. The blaze sped around the three broad circles of wick. Something began to revolve.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" The boys could not help it, even with the two injured men lying below. For Alligator Light was burning again, sending its red and white flashes over the black water every five seconds for the comfort and safety of many a mariner at sea that stormy night!
To look after the injured keepers was the next work. They hurried down the stairs, and when near the bottom they heard Mr. Pinder asking, in his weak voice, full of pain: