"Here, you fellows," he called, "heave me up a line!"

There was a second's surprise when the other members of the crew saw Eric on the crest of the ice-barrier which so far had defied them all.

"Good work!" called the keeper. "Jefferson, toss up the line."

Eric caught it.

"Have you a spike or anything?" he called, "I'll haul it up!"

The keeper yanked out one of the spikes of the frame on which the line was faked and the boy carefully hauled it up, then drove it into the ice as hard as he could, using his heavy boot for a hammer. He next took the line, and wound it around the spike to help him in holding it.

"Now," he yelled through the storm, "some one can come up the rope."

"Muldoon," said the keeper to the Irishman, "you're about the lightest, you go up first."

"'Tis meself will do it," was the reply, "an' it's blitherin' idjits we were not to think o' the way the kid did it."

Then he shinned up the rope like a monkey on a stick.

With both Muldoon and Eric hanging to the rope, it was not long until five men got to the top. The keeper, seeing how successful Eric's plan had proved, ordered every man to cut for himself a good foothold in the ice, and then, tailing on to the rope, they got the apparatus-cart up the slope, two men behind trying to guide it from below. It was a difficult haul, but at last they got the cart to the summit, and, in order to keep it from sliding down, straddled the wheels atop.

[Ill.u.s.tration: RUSHING THE APPARATUS-CART.

Coast Guard Crew with life-gun, line-box, shots, hawser, breeches-buoy and signal-lights, ploughing through heavy sand to wreck on beach a mile away.

Courtesy of U.S. Coast Guard.]

The cart rocked unsteadily. Suddenly, as a particularly vicious blast came whistling by, it canted as though it were going to fall. Eric, who was a few feet away from the cart, jumped forward to save it, but missed his footing and fell into the mush-ice twenty feet below, going clear through.

There was no time for orders. Muldoon, quick as a wink, almost before any one else had grasped the accident, knotted a line around the cart and taking the other end in his hand jumped into the mush-ice after the boy. So true was his eye that he struck almost the same point and a few seconds later appeared above the surface with Eric. Neither was hurt, but both were wet through, handicapping them for work on so cold a night.

Eric's ruse in getting the apparatus-cart to the top of the cliff, however, had solved the biggest part of the difficulty. By carefully sliding the cart along the face of the cliff for ten yards or a little more, they found themselves above the road leading out to the spit. It was then merely a matter of lowering the cart to the other side.

Meantime Muldoon had raced the boy to the lighthouse for a chance to change their clothes before they froze on them. No sooner did he knock on the door than the lighthouse-keeper came out, and the open door showed his daughter behind. Edith Abend was only seventeen years old, but she had already saved two lives.

"You got here at last, then," said the lighthouse-keeper gruffly.

Edith, with a readier sense that help was needed, said quickly,

"What has happened? Is there anything wrong?"

"Nothin' wrong at all, darlint," said the Irishman, with his national readiness to say nice things to a pretty girl, "only we've had a trifle of a duckin' an' if there's annything like dhry clothes in this house 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 pa.s.sed 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 aim, and the best man is one who has an intuition. This, Muldoon had. Besides, the old puzzle-maker had taught him how to allow for the drop of the line and how to estimate the force of the wind.

He fussed around for a minute or two, saw that the line was free on the pins and that the case was free, and waited for the gusts of wind to die down to a steadier gait. Then he fired. The red flare of the short cannon showed clear against the ice and the line went sailing out gracefully.

"Too far for'ard," said Eric disappointedly, as he saw it start. Muldoon only shook his head.

"'Tis not far off," he said.

Sure enough, as the missile was about half-way out to the wreck, the wind took the line and drove it sideways till it fell right abaft the funnel. A flare from the steamer showed that the line had been received.

"Nice shooting, Muldoon," the keeper said. "We'll have to give the credit to that well-fittin' coat you've got on." The lighthouse-keeper was at least twice the Irishman's size.