"I asked Phin before we started. The sea is clear for half a mile and more all around the Thimble. We can circle it, all right, if the wind holds this way."
"That's all I expect you to do, Tommy," responded Ruth, quickly.
But they all three eyed the conical-shaped rock very sharply as the Jennie S. drew nearer. They ran between the lighthouse and the Thimble. The tide, in falling, left the green and slime-covered ledges bare.
"A boat could get into bad quarters there, and easily enough," said Tom, as they ran past.
But when he tacked and the catboat swung her head seaward, they began to observe the far side of the Thimble. It was almost circular, and probably all of a thousand yards in circumference. The waves now ran up the exposed ledges, hissing and gurgling among the cavities, and sometimes throwing up spume-like geysers between the boulders.
"A bad rock for any vessel to stub her toe against trying to make Sokennet Harbor," quoth Tom Cameron. "They say that the wreckers used to have a false beacon here in the old times. They used to bring a sheep out here and tie a lantern to its neck. Then, at low tide, they'd drive the poor sheep over the rocks and the bobbing up and down of the lantern would look
