its long anchor rope, had swung inshore until
it floated almost over the road. Seth seized it in time to prevent
collision with his knees. The thole pins were in place, and the oars
laid lengthwise on its thwarts. As his hands touched the gunwale a new
idea came to him.

He had intended walking the rest of the way to Eastboro, routing out the
liveryman and hiring a horse and buggy with which to reach the Lights.
Now he believed chance had offered him an easier and more direct method
of travel. He could row up the Harbor and Slough, land close to where
the Daisy M. lay, and walk the rest of the way in a very short time. He
climbed into the dory, pulled up the anchor, and seated himself at the
oars.

The bottom of the boat was two inches deep with rain water, and the
thwart was dripping and cold. Seth, being already about as wet as he
could be, did not mind this, but pulled with long strokes out into the
harbor. The vague black shadows of the land disappeared, and in a minute
he was, so far as his eyes could tell him, afloat on a shoreless sea.
He had no compass, but this did not trouble him. The wind, he knew, was
blowing directly from the direction he wished to go, and he kept the
dory's bow in the teeth of it. He rowed on and on. The waves, out here
in the deep water, were of good size, and the spray flew as he splashed
into them. He knew that he was likely to get off the course, but the
Back Harbor was, except for its upper entrance, landlocked, and he could
not go far astray, no matter where he might hit the shore.

The fog clouds, driven by the squalls, drifted by and passed. At rare
intervals the sky was almost clear. After he had rowed for half an hour
and was beginning to think he must be traveling in circles, one of
these clear intervals came and, far off to the left and ahead, he saw
something which caused him to utter an exclamation of joy. Two
fiery eyes shone through the dark. The fog shut them in again almost
immediately, but that one glance was sufficient to show that all was
well at the post he had deserted. The fiery eyes were the lanterns in
the Twin-Lights towers. John Brown had been equal to the emergency, and
the lamps were lighted.

Seth's anxiety was relieved, but that one glimpse made him even more
eager for home. He rowed on for a short time, and then began edging in
toward the invisible left-hand shore. Judging by the length of time he
had been rowing, he must be close to the mouth of the Sl