use it
would help us to our work. The lad here's quite wet."

"I don't see that I'm any wetter than you are!" protested Eric.

The light-keeper looked them over.

"Yon's the crew?" he asked.

"Yes," said Eric, "we've had a hard time getting here."

"I was wonderin' how ye were goin' to get over the ice-wall."

"We got over, all right," the boy replied.

"I see ye did. Well, I reckon I've some old things ye can have," the
keeper said grouchily.

The girl disappeared and a moment later came back into the room.

"They're all in there," she said simply, pointing to the next room.

"'Tis yourself that's the jewel," Muldoon said, leading the way in with
alacrity. There was nothing the matter with the Irishman's movements.
When he wanted to be quick he could move like a streak of extra-greased
lightning. He was out of his wet clothes and into a complete set of the
keeper's in a hurry. Eric was not many seconds behind. They put on their
own slickers, which had been dripping at the fireside, and were ready
for work again.

Great was the boy's surprise, as he tied on his sou'wester, to see a
small figure covered from head to foot in oilskins waiting for them.
Still greater was his amazement when he saw that this was the girl.

"Is it comin' out to watch us ye are, Miss?" said Muldoon. "Sure the
wind will blow ye away entirely. It's admiring the pluck of ye I am, but
ye'd better stay indoors. 'Tis no night to be watchin'."

"I'm not going to watch, I'm going to work," the girl said calmly. "And
I don't think you ought to waste time talking, either."

So saying, she walked out of the door to avoid further argument. The
light-keeper looked longingly after the three as though he would like to
join them, and help in the rescue, but his duty was with his light and
he could not leave it.

So quickly had all this passed that Muldoon, Eric and the girl got to
the edge of the spit just as the five members of the Coast Guard crew
had unshipped the gun, placed it in position and loaded it.

"That you, Muldoon?" said the keeper.

"Yis, sorr, it's me."

"You'd better take the gun. You're the best shot. That is, if you're
all right after your ducking."

"I'm in warrm, dhry clothes," the Irishman answered, "an' I'll do as you
say. But you're just as good a shot yourself," he added.

"Don't blatherskite," the keeper said. "Grab hold an' lay her straight."

The Lyle gun, being so short, gives little real opportunity for ai