e how we can very well help it," said Vi, with a little shiver
and cuddling up close to Billie on the window seat and slipping a hand
into hers. "Oh--h!" and she clapped her hand to her ears as the wind rose
to a wailing scream and the windows all over the house shook and rattled
with the impact.

"I guess Uncle Tom was right," said Connie, from somewhere out of the
darkness. "Dad says, too, that this is the worst summer storm we have had
around these parts for years. Oh, I do hope the boys are safe somewhere
on shore."

"I don't think we need worry about them," said Mr. Danvers. Or rather he
started to say it, but at that moment the wind rose with insane fury,
bringing the rain with it in driving torrents that beat swishingly upon
the sand and drove viciously against the windows.

He waited for a moment until the wind died down. Then he began again.

"The storm was a long time in coming," he said. "The boys had plenty of
warning. Paul is very cautious, and I know he wouldn't go on in the face
of such danger. But," and he turned toward the window again, "heaven help
the ship that can't make port to-night."

"That's almost exactly what Uncle Tom said," remarked Connie, and then
there was silence in the little room again while outside the storm raged
and the light from the lighthouse tower sent its warning far out over the
foam-crested waves.

The girls went to bed at last. Not because they expected to sleep, but
because Connie's mother insisted.

"Poor Uncle Tom!" murmured Billie to herself as, in her little white
nightie, she stood at the window looking out toward the lighthouse tower.
"All alone out there. What was it he said? 'You think of the men and the
women and the little children out there on the sinking ships, and you
curse the storm that's bringing disaster along with it.' Poor, poor Uncle
Tom! I wonder if he _is_ thinking of--her."

And with a sigh she turned from the window and crept into bed beside
Connie.

Toward morning the girls were awakened from an uneasy sleep by a strange
white light flashed suddenly in their eyes. They stumbled out of bed,
dazed by the suddenness with which they had been awakened and stared out
into the black night.

"What was it?" gasped Billie. "Oh my, there it is again!"

"The searchlight," cried Connie, running over to the window, her eyes
wide with horror. "Billie, that's the signal to the life-savers. And
there goes the siren," she groaned, clapping her hands over