Fairview Boys at Lighthouse Cove/Chapter 4
CHAPTER IV
IN THE LIGHTHOUSE
For a moment Sammy's two chums looked curiously at him, and Frank seemed about to laugh. Then Bob said:
"You're crazy, Sammy!"
"I am not," answered the other, quickly. "Look there!"
All looked, and did indeed see a man using a spade to dig up the earth in a secluded spot not far from the path that led to the lighthouse. The man, who was elderly, had a lantern on the ground beside him, and as he sunk the spade into the earth, and brought it up, he would look closely at the soil in the rays of the light.
"Now what do you think?" demanded Sammy, in a triumphant whisper. "Isn't he digging all right?"
"Oh, he's digging," agreed Bob. "I admit that."
"And for gold!" added Sammy.
"Gold nothing!" exclaimed Frank with a quiet laugh. "Do you want to know what I think, Sammy Brown?"
"Yes; what is it?"
"I think that man—whoever he is—is after fish worms. See, he has a tin can there, ready to put the worms in. That's all he's doing, Sammy. He's after bait, getting ready for a fishing trip late to-night or early to-morrow morning."
"That's right," said Bob.
"Oh, is it?" asked Sammy, and he did not seem at all disturbed by what his chums said. Then he quietly asked them:
"Did you fellows ever hear of catching salt-water fish on angle worms? I guess not—not around here, anyhow. Wasn't that what old Hamp Salina told us, when we asked him about bait the other day?"
"That's so," agreed Frank. "They don't use angle worms around here."
"No, but they use blood worms," declared Bob, "and you have to dig for them."
"Yes, down on the beach, but not up as far as this from the water," spoke Sammy earnestly, and the boys knew that he was right. Still the man with the lantern was digging for something, and he seemed very much in earnest about it, too.
The boys watched him for a minute or so in silence. They had spoken in whispers so far, and the digger had evidently not heard or seen them. He was too busy using his shovel.
Presently Frank spoke.
"Say, fellows!" he exclaimed, "maybe he isn't digging for anything after all."
"Pooh! Can't we see?" asked Sammy.
"No, I mean he may be burying something, instead of digging it up. He's making quite a hole."
That was something new to think about, and for a few seconds the boys watched to see if Frank's idea was right.
"Do you think he's one of the pirates?" asked Bob.
"Maybe—if there are any—but I don't believe so," answered Frank.
"Perhaps he found some of the pirate gold, and he's burying it again until he has a good chance to get rid of it. I wish we knew who he was."
At that moment the old man straightened up his bent back, and gave a sigh of relief, and also disappointment.
"Well," the boys heard him murmur, "I'll have to dig farther on. It isn't here, that's sure. I wonder if I will ever find it?"
The words seemed to strike a thrill through the Fairview boys. They looked at each other in the darkness, illuminated by the flashes of light from the lighthouse beacon, and then, as the old man picked up his lantern, and turned in their direction, they crouched down in the bushes in order to remain hidden.
But the night-digger, whoever he was, looked neither to left nor right. He turned sharply and walked away from the boys. Then they breathed more easily.
"I thought sure he'd see us," said Frank.
"So did I," added Bob.
"Let's take a look and see what he was after," suggested Sammy. "Maybe we can get another clue."
He was quite excited, and so were his two chums. Usually the others did not pay much attention to some of the queer things Sammy said and thought, but this time it seemed as though he had stumbled on a mystery. Still Frank was not going to give in too easily. He had not forgotten how Sammy's "counterfeiters" had turned out.
"I believe, after all," said Frank, "that this man will prove to be only someone looking for a place to bury a dead cat, or something like that."
"Oh, you get out!" exclaimed Sammy. "You're always making fun of my ideas. Didn't you hear him say that he couldn't find it? It means the pirate gold, I'm sure. Then he said he'd have to look farther. Does that look like he was burying a dead cat?"
"No, it doesn't," admitted Bob. "But let's go on to the lighthouse, and maybe the keeper there may know something about this old man. We'll ask him, and if he doesn't, perhaps Mr. Salina will."
"I say—hold on!" cried Sammy, as his two chums set off down the path again.
"What's the matter now?" asked Frank.
"Do you see the old man digging again?" inquired Bob.
"No," replied Sammy, "but don't let's tell the light-keeper nor Mr. Salina what we saw. Let's work this thing out ourselves. If there's any money in it we don't want to have to share it among too many people."
"Oh, you're always thinking of that!" laughed Bob.
"And another thing," said Frank. "Suppose that old man finds the pirate gold, Sammy, we couldn't ask him for a share in it, just because we spied on him, and saw him dig it, could we?"
"No," answered Sammy slowly, as he scratched his nose, which he always did when he was thinking deeply. "No, I s'pose not. But if we saw the old man digging, and he didn't find anything, there's nothing to prevent our going and digging near the same spots. He probably knows about where the gold is hid.
"But if we talk about this, and tell everybody, they'll all dig too, and they may find the treasure ahead of us."
"Say, you're as bad as when we went to Eagle Mountain," laughed Bob. "But go ahead. Have your way. We won't say anything until we've done a little more watching."
"That's all I ask," said Sammy.
"Then come on to the lighthouse," suggested Bob. "I'd like to see how the machinery works."
A little later they were knocking on the door of the small cottage built at the side of the big tower, in the top of which flashed the warning beacon.
"Come in," called a girl's voice, and the boys entered. They found themselves in a pleasant room, where sat John Floyd, the keeper of the light, and his wife and daughter. It was evidently the daughter, a girl of about twelve years, who had invited the boys to enter, for she rose to welcome them, saying:
"I think I know you—Mr. Salina told me about you, and said you might come over to see us. Father, these are the boys from Barnacle Cottage. This is my mother and father," she went on, with a smile.
"I hope you don't mind us calling," spoke Bob. "Mr. Salina said visitors were allowed, and we wanted to see how the light worked."
"Glad to have you!" exclaimed Mr. Floyd, who was proud of his light. "And night is the best time to come to see the machinery working. Now let me get the straight of you—what are your names?"
The boys introduced themselves, and learned that the daughter's name was Lucy. She offered to take them through the tower, and led the way to the spiral stairs.
"Our light isn't a very big one," she said, "but it shows the ships where the dangerous rocks are, and I suppose that's all that is needed."
"Does it work by electricity?" asked Frank.
"No, it's an oil light," answered Lucy. "And father has to work all night to keep it trimmed and bright, and to see that the oil does not give out."
"It must be hard work," ventured Sammy.
"It is, but father is used to it now, and likes it. He sleeps most of the day, and stays up all night. Sometimes mother and I take the early watches of the night to give him a rest."
"Do you have bad storms here?" asked Bob.
"Oh, yes, indeed, sometimes. And then father always worries for fear the light may go out. If it did, even for a few minutes, some ship might take the wrong course and get on the rocks. Of course the big ships don't come up in our cove, but small ones do."
"Has that ever happened that the light went out?" Frank asked.
"Not since father has been in charge," said Lucy proudly, "and that is over fourteen years, now. He came here when he was first married, and has been here ever since."
"What is this for?" asked Bob, as they passed a curious bit of machinery in the tower, on their way up to the lamp itself.
"That is what turns the lenses," the girl explained. "You see this is a revolving light. It flashes around once every two seconds, and it is regulated by clock-work. This big weight that hangs down is used instead of a spring or an engine, to turn the lenses."
"I see!" exclaimed Sammy. "It's like a cuckoo clock."
"Yes," answered Lucy. "Father winds the weight up every day, by a crank and windlass, as in an old-fashioned well. Then it is caught by a sort of trigger. At night when the lantern is lighted, the weight is allowed to slide slowly down. That pulls the wheels around and the light flashes.
"You see each lighthouse in this section has a different sort of lantern. That is, some are fixed lights, some are revolving lights, some are red and some are white. Sailors can tell, by the difference in the lights, just where they are, even on the darkest night."
"A lighthouse is quite important," murmured Frank.
"We think so," laughed Lucy.
Then the girl took them up into the light chamber itself, a small room, with glass sides. The glass was really in the shape of lenses, as in an automobile lamp, only it was cut in another form, called a prism, in order to better cast out the direct rays, and magnify them.
The lantern was an oil one, and it burned brightly, for it was kept clean, and the wicks were often trimmed. The boys 
Then the girl took them up in the light chamber itself.
were rather surprised to find that it was the glass windows, or prisms, that revolved by means of the clockwork, and not the lantern itself. If the lantern went around it could not be trimmed without being stopped, and this would make a difference in the flashes, Lucy explained, and so confuse the sailors.
At certain places in the glass sides of the lantern room, there were blank spaces where no light could flash out, and this gave the proper signal for that part of the coast.
If you will take a pasteboard tube, such as calenders are mailed in, cut two or three holes near the top, making the holes the same distance apart, with blank spaces in between, and set this tube over a candle, you will have a good idea of a lighthouse. Then if you will turn the tube around, with the lighted candle still inside, you will get the effect of a flashing light, such as Bob and his chums were shown.
They were much interested, and stayed in the tower some time, watching Mr. Floyd trim and fill the lamp, to keep it bright.
"This is certainly great!" exclaimed Frank, when they were ready to leave."
"It sure is," agreed Sammy. Then he was unable to restrain his curiosity in spite of what he had agreed with his chums. "Say," he asked earnestly, when they were down in the living-room again, "did you ever hear anything of the pirate gold buried around here, Mr. Floyd?"
The light-keeper laughed.
"Oh, yes, I've heard," he said, "but I don't take any stock in it."
Sammy was not discouraged by this answer.
"Did you ever dig for it?" he persisted.
"Oh, yes, when I first came here, and heard the story, I was young and foolish, and I had my try at it," answered the light-keeper, with a chuckle. "But I soon gave it up. I could make more money, and be sure of it, by tending the light."
"Does anybody ever dig for it now?" asked Frank, giving Sammy a meaning look.
"Oh, yes, now and then someone has a try at it," went on Mr. Floyd. "They think they can discover some new clues, I suppose. But I don't take any stock in 'em. Well, boys, come again—always glad to see you," he added, as they went out.