 CHAPTER XXVIII Where is Jack?" asked Ralph, coming into the kitchen. Why, I thought he was helping you. Margaret looked alarmed. He did help me, until the kindling was all piled, but I haven't seen him for a half hour or more. I thought he came into the house. I'll go look for him. Before Ralph reached the door, however, it burst open, and Jack almost fell in, his face flushed with excitement. Come quick, Ralph, he cried. There's a man laying over here in the snow. I think he must be dead. You thought you could fool me and make me think I didn't see anybody on the rocks that day, but I knew better all the time. I'll show you now I was right. He stopped, panting for breath. Ralph seized his cap. Show him to me, Jack, he cried. I'm going with you, and Meg ran for her coat. In a few moments the two were following Jack. Ralph to be ready for any emergency was carrying the rifle. The little fellow led them along the shore into the top of a mass of rock that ran out into the lake. There, he said, there's the man I saw. He isn't a rock or a stump, is he? Lying in the snow was the ragged, wild-looking man. Is he dead, Ralph, do you think? Asked Margaret. She shuddered a little as she looked down on the haggard face and matted black beard. He looks like it, Ralph returned. Put your hand over his heart and see if it's beating, commanded Meg. Ralph hesitated. What's the use, he said? If he isn't dead now he will be before long. The day was bitterly cold. If you won't do it I will, exclaimed Meg, taking a step nearer the motionless figure. Don't you touch him. Here, you take the gun and keep it aimed full at him. He may come too, suddenly. I'll see if he's alive. If he tries any funny business, shoot him. He took the rifle and Ralph, kneeling in the snow, put his hand inside the ragged coat. He's alive, he's warm yet and his heart is beating. We must go back and get the toboggan then. He'll freeze here in a little while. Ralph rose to his feet. The best thing we can do is to let him freeze, he said emphatically. He's more beast than man anyway. Ralph, cried his sister, that would be murder. No more murder than letting a wolf or a wild cat die, he insisted. Yes, it would be. Whatever he is, whether he is crazy or the worst kind of a villain, he's a man, and it's our duty to keep him from dying if we can. Even wounded enemies in war are taken to hospitals and cared for, not left to die. But what can we do with him? There's no knowing how he may act if he comes too. He may murder us all. We can tie his hands and feet, replied Meg. Then he can't do us any harm if he does come too. But I don't believe he will very soon. We must do what we can for him whatever happens. It would be the wickedest kind of murder to leave him here. Ralph knew she was right, though he hated to admit it. It's up to you, he said grudgingly. You two go for the toboggan and I'll stay here and keep an eye on him. If he comes too, I want a word with him before he gets away. Be sure and bring some rope to tie him with. Jack had been listening wide-eyed. What is he, Ralph? He half-whispered, glancing at the miserable-looking figure. Is he a pirate? Ralph gave a short laugh. No, he said. I guess he isn't a pirate, but he is a bad sort and we'd rather not have anything to do with him. He's a poor man who has been driven nearly crazy by starvation, Jack, Meg added. We're going to do what we can for him. In a short time Margaret and Jack were back with the toboggan, a blanket and some stout rope. The man had shown no signs of consciousness, but Ralph, still doubting him, bade Meg cover him with the rifle until his hands and feet were bound. Then they lifted him on the toboggan. They were surprised to find him no heavier. Evidently, he was not much more than skin and bones. I see now what's happened to him, said Ralph. There's blood on his hair. He must have fallen and cut his head on that sharp edge of rock. Don't put that blanket over him, he's too dirty. Nonsense, replied Meg. The blanket will wash. I told Lawrence to make a good fire in the bedroom and heat some water. We can put him on my bed. The cot will be good enough for him, I guess, replied Ralph shortly. We'll tie him down to it. Though Larry's foot was far from well, he was able to hobble about. His cot had been put back in the bedroom, and Margaret's bed set up again in the living room. He and Ralph carried the strange man through kitchen and hall and laid him on the cot. The first thing to do, said Lawrence, is to get these dirty rags off and give him a bath. We can't have him around here in this state. There's plenty of hot water. The two boys stripped off the ragged, filthy clothes, sponged the emaciated body with warm water, and managed to get a suit of clean underwear on the unconscious man. Luckily he did not seem to be frozen anywhere, though his swollen feet and hands gave evidence that he had suffered from former frostbite. Apparently he had not lain long in the snow. He trimmed the long ragged hair, cutting it as close as he could around the wound, which he cleansed carefully. Then Margaret brought a strip, a soft cloth, for a bandage. She did not explain where she got it. Probably it was torn from some part of her clothing. I might as well trim his beard, said Larry. I don't pretend to be a barber, but he'll look more like a human being when I'm through with him anyway. Even with his hair and beard trimmed, the man looked mild and innocent enough as he lay there unconscious. He has a rather well-shaped head, said Lawrence. Look at his forehead. His features are good, too. He's really not a bad-looking chap. Now he's clean and trimmed. He doesn't look as if he needed to be tied down. If you had fought with him, you would want to tie him. I'm in favor of putting the ropes on his wrists and ankles again, not tight enough to hurt, of course, and then tying him around the waist to the cot. We mustn't take any risks with Margaret and Jack about. After the boys had tied the man again, Margaret brought a cup of hot, strong tea, the only stimulant they had. His mouth was open a little, and Larry cautiously put part of a teaspoonful of tea between his teeth. The muscles of his throat contracted slightly, then relaxed again. He swallowed it, said Larry, and tried another spoonful. Slowly and patiently, little by little, so as not to choke him, the boy fed him the cup of tea. He remained unconscious, the movement of the throat muscles seeming to be purely mechanical, but the beating of his heart grew stronger and more regular. For about two hours he remained in that state, then Larry, who was watching him, saw his chest heave with a long breath, which escaped from his open lips with a sighing sound. The boy hobbled to the door and called Margaret. Bring that broth, he said, I think he's coming too. Margaret poured out a cupful of the squirrel meat broth that was simmering on the kitchen stove, and Larry fed it to his patient a little at a time. The throat muscles worked more strongly and easily, and little sighing sounds escaped the lips from time to time, but still the man did not open his eyes or move his body. It was not until some time in the night that he gave any further signs of life. The boys had agreed to keep watch over him. He might come too, or he might die at any moment, they thought. Ralph took first watch, but it must be confessed. He had been dozing in his chair by the fire when he was aroused by a slight noise. Turning he saw in the dim light of a shaded candle a pair of wild eyes glaring at him from the cot. He sprang up and went to the injured man to find him muttering and twisting about. Ralph laid his hand on the man's forehead. It was hot with fever. For three nights and two days the fever lasted. The patient tossing and twisting as much as his bonds would permit, fighting against them sometimes and muttering or crying out, or lying in a heavy stupor that could hardly be called sleep. During that time the three young people nursed their enemy as well and carefully as they could. Either Ralph or Larry was always with him, keeping ice wrapped in cloths on his forehead and wrists when the fever was high, giving him water whenever he seemed to want it, and feeding him slowly a spoonful at a time the broth's meg prepared. Sometimes he would lie still to be fed, at others he would try to raise himself, snatch at the spoon with his teeth, or struggle to loose his tied hands. Though he muttered and mumbled almost constantly when the fever was worst, the watchers could not make out a complete sentence, and very few of the words were intelligible. What they did catch, however, led them to wonder about this man. There's something decidedly queer about him, said Lawrence, the second morning after they had brought him home. I can't make him out. I've been thinking that he was some kind of a lowdown half-beast. He certainly looked and behaved like one, but now I'm not so sure. He has an intelligent head and face. We discovered that as soon as we washed him and trimmed his hair and beard. Several times, when he has been rambling along, he has said something, only a word or two perhaps, that didn't sound like an ignorant, lowdown sort of a chap. Last night I heard him say distinctly something about copper-bearing conglomerate and glacial drift. Those are geological terms, and you wouldn't expect to hear them from anyone but an educated man. Maybe, suggested Ralph, he is a prospector who has struck a rich mind somewhere around here. That might account for the way he hated us. He may have thought we would get on to his secret. Perhaps, Lawrence replied, I've thought of that myself. Last night I looked over those rags we took off him. They are disgustingly dirty, but they were good clothes once. I don't mean the kind of clothes a man wears in the city, but good outing clothes. The shirt is finer flannel than ours. His boots are in ribbons, but they're the kind that cost a good deal of money. He must have carried a watch, for this piece of gold chain was hanging to his shirt. It's been broken off, you see. There wasn't much in his pockets. They are too ragged for things to stay in. What I found doesn't look as if it belonged to a tramp, though. He handed Ralph a fountain pen, an empty silver match case with an engraved monogram, and a worn and dirty envelope that held a first-class steamer ticket from the southwestern end of the island to Duluth. The fact that it was from the other end of the island, instead of Smith Harbor, amazed the boys. He has a gold ring with a small, dark-colored cameo on his left little finger, continued Larry. And have you noticed his hands? They are rough and frostbitten, and the nails are in bad condition, but they go with his head. All these things aroused the young people's keenest curiosity, and they watched eagerly for their strange visitor to show some signs of returning intelligence. The third morning after they had taken him in, Ralph discovered, when he approached the cot, that the patient seemed to be sleeping naturally, the lines of suffering smoothed from his haggard face, his breath coming quietly and easily. Ralph touched the white forehead. It was cool and moist. The touch wakened the man. The fire and wildness, quite gone from his large brown eyes, he looked up at the boy. A little water, please, he said in a weak voice. Ralph held the cup to his lips and put his hand under his head to support it. The man drained the cup. His head sank back on the pillow. Thank you, he murmured, looking at Ralph with a little smile. Then he closed his eyes and went immediately to sleep. Ralph hurried out to tell the others. The fever's gone, he said, and he seems to have come to his senses. He's the mildest-mannered pirate you ever saw. He said, please, when he asked for a drink, thanked me, and went to sleep again. End of chapter 28 Chapter 29 When Light Houses Are Dark by Ethel C. Brill. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. 29 The Mystery Solved The strange man slept peacefully for several hours. Then he opened his eyes and looked about him with a bewildered expression. Lawrence was sitting by the window, putting a new cord in one of Jack's snowshoes. He rose immediately and went to the cot. Would you like something to eat? He asked. Thank you, I believe I would, the patient answered weakly. Larry went for some broth. When he returned, the man's face still wore the puzzled expression. He made a slight movement of his shoulders, then looked up at the boy questioningly. What, he said hesitatingly, is the matter with my hands. His manner of speech was that of a gentleman. Larry flushed, tying this mild-mannered man seemed ridiculous. You've been ill, the lad hastened to explain, a high fever and all that. We tied you because he paused, not knowing just how to continue. I was violent, was I? I've made you a good deal of trouble, I'm afraid. I have a sort of dim remembrance. The puzzled frown deepened. You mustn't try to talk, Larry put in, or even think. You're too weak yet. Just let me feed you this broth. You'll feel better after you've had it. But I'll untie your hands first. He took the rope from the man's wrists, sat down beside the cot, passed his arm behind his patient's head and fed him the broth. That's very good, the sick man said, when he had finished the last drop. Did you make it yourself? Oh, no, Margaret made it, she's a good cook. A woman, said the man softly, I've fallen into good hands. I don't understand. You mustn't worry about understanding now, Larry replied. Go to sleep again, if you can. The rest of that day the strange man showed no further curiosity as to himself or his surroundings. He slept peacefully, waking only long enough to take food. At first Ralph was opposed to removing the ropes, but after he had given the patient his broth and had seen how quiet he was, he consented to untie his ankles and take away the rope that bound him to the cot. The man paid little attention to the untying of his bonds. He seemed to take for granted that they had been put there to keep him from injuring himself when the fever was on him. The next morning, however, when Ralph brought him his breakfast, the stranger said to him, Would you mind telling me who you are and where I am? Not at all, replied the boy promptly, Eat your breakfast first and then I'll tell you. After the sick man had eaten, Ralph answered his questions. I am Ralph Elliot, he said, and the other fellow who has been looking after you is Lawrence Kingsley. My sister Margaret made the mush you've just been eating. As to where you are, this is the old lighthouse. The old lighthouse? Do you mean the abandoned lighthouse and the outer harbor on the northeast end of the island? Ralph nodded. The man looked bewildered. How did I get here? He asked. Did you find me in the bog and bring me here? We found you, but not in any bog. You are lying in the snow just a little away from here. In the snow? How do you happen to be on the island so late? Are you fishermen? No, we're castaways. We lost our way on Thunder Bay in a fog, drifted all night and reached this island. That was in October. We missed the last boat. It's a long story. It would tire you too much to listen to it now. We've been here ever since. The last boat? The man was staring at him. What time of the year is it now? Today's the twenty-second of February, Washington's birthday. The other raised his hand weakly and passed it over his forehead. I can't understand, he said. How long have I been sick? We picked you up four days ago. Four days? But where—where was I the rest of the time, the other four months? What do you mean? It was Ralph's turn to be amazed. You have been around this end of the island for a long time, since before Christmas. The sick man shook his head slowly. Then an astonishing idea flashed into Ralph's mind. He leaned forward and put his hand on his patient's arm. Tell me, he said earnestly but quietly, try to remember, who are you and where did you come from? I had forgotten you didn't know. I am Robert Graham, an instructor in geology at Northern University. On October 10th I started from the southwest end of this island to walk the length of it. I planned to spend a week or ten days on the trip, though it is only sixty or seventy miles. I wanted to do a little exploring and get a better idea of the geological formation of the central ridge. When I had gone about half way I sprained my knee and could not continue. I camped for several days, thinking my leg would get better, but my provisions were almost exhausted and I had no gun. So I was obliged to go on again. I had to go very slowly and rest often. When dark came I was worn out with the effort and the pain. The next morning my knee was stiff and badly swollen, but I managed to keep on. I hadn't gone far when I slipped and fell down a steep rocky slope. I must have struck my head and I suppose the blow knocked me unconscious. I remember coming too with my head aching frightfully. I went on, I don't know how long, whether it was for hours or days. It isn't clear in my mind. In some way I got into a bog. I remember falling and lying there in the wet moss, too exhausted to get up. He paused. "'Is that the last thing you remember?' Ralph was leaning forward eagerly. The man frowned with the effort of trying to recollect. "'Yes,' he said finally, "'that is the last thing I am sure of. There are vague remembrances or were they dreams, I can't tell. They are all dim and shadowy and detached. I think they must be dreams, fever dreams. Don't try to recall them now. You're all tired out. Leave them till another day and go to sleep. I shouldn't have let you talk so much. I'm a bad nurse. I am tired. We'll talk about it some other time.' He closed his eyes exhaustedly. As soon as the sick man was sleeping again, Ralph hurried away to tell Meg and Larry and Jack what he had discovered. "'I've solved the problem of our mild-mannered wild man,' he said. He's been crazy clear out of his head for months. He can't remember anything since some time in October when he was over in the middle of the island. When Ralph had told the story, Margaret and Lawrence agreed with him that he had found the true explanation of their visitor's strange behavior. "'It was falling on his head that caused his insanity,' said Larry, added to the exposure and starvation and other hardships, I suppose. But how in the world has he lived all this time?' "'It's horrible to think of,' exclaimed Meg. The poor man wandering around that way, out of his head and starving. Oh, Ralph, if we had left him to die!' "'You were right that time for sure, Meg,' her brother replied gravely. I'm mighty glad you insisted on bringing him home. I can't understand how he lived all those months, though. It's no wonder he has behaved more like an animal than a man.' "'That is just it,' said Larry. He has been like an animal. He hasn't been responsible, but has just followed his instincts, when he was hungry or cold or sleepy. Like an animal he's been shy and afraid, but ready to fight for food. Jackie, that was the best turn you ever did, anyone, when you found the poor chap lying there in the snow. And Jack, though much excited over the story, seemed a little disappointed. "'I thought maybe he was a pirate,' he said, and I've always wanted to see a real pirate.' The sick man improved rapidly. The castaways of food supplies were not just what a nurse would have selected to feed a convalescent. But Margaret did her best. And Mr. Graham enjoyed everything she prepared and praised her cooking. It was evident that, aside from the cut on his head, his illness had been mainly the result of starvation. With good food he recovered strength quickly, and in a few days was able to be up and about. His old clothes were nothing but rags, and Ralph went clear to the Thorsons fishing camp to get him coat and trousers. Fortunately, Meg had enough yarn left to knit him a pair of warm socks. The feet of his laced boots were completely worn out. But from the tops and a hair-skin, which the boys scraped and cured as well as they could, he managed with Meg's help to make a clumsy pair of moccasins. The moccasins Ralph and Larry used with their snowshoes had become unwearable also, and they decided to make them some hair-skin ones. They were queer-looking things, and the imperfectly cured skins had an unpleasant odor, but they were warm, at least. Whether from good food and care, or because the second fall in his head had counteracted the effect of the first one, Mr. Graham seemed entirely cured of the mental trouble that had turned him temporarily into a wild animal. In his normal state he proved to be a pleasant, kindly young man, and the Elliotts and Lawrence soon took a warm liking to him and he to them. Of his months of wandering and suffering he had no clear recollection, nothing but a vague sense of discomfort and misery and fear such as might remain after a bad attack of nightmare and a few disconnected and hazy impressions, like dreams vaguely recalled. He seemed to remember breaking into buildings and finding food. One of his clearest impressions was of a room with much food in it, where he had eaten greedily and had gathered up all he could carry. He recalled also looking through a window into a lighted room and crouching over a fire in a fireplace and piling on wood till the flames scorched him. When he told of that recollection the boys exchanged glances. They remembered at the unlocked back door. Was that the way the cabin caught fire? He had vague impressions of climbing trees and eating dried berries and seeds from cones, or taking fish from lines and of fighting with animals and men. His recollections were all indistinct and hazy, however, and it troubled him so much to recall them that the boys soon ceased to question him. It was better for him to forget them all. How he had managed to exist so long without starving or freezing will always remain a mystery to them. From his disconnected memories it seemed likely that he had wandered over the whole northern end of the island, entering every building he could find a way into, in search of food, shelter, and warmth. Between the time when he had fallen exhausted in the bog and the day when he smashed the lock on the fisherman's cabin door, he must have found some sources of supply, for he could hardly have existed all that time on seeds and berries. From the Thorson's house he had evidently carried away a considerable quantity of food, enough to last him some time. But where he had secreted it, or when he came to the end of it, he could not tell. The remains of a fire in the den under the trees in the swamp showed that he had not forgotten how to kindle a blaze to warm him and that he had been supplied with matches. There were plenty in Newt Thorson's storeroom, and doubtless he had helped himself to them. He had no recollection of cooking food, however, and the boys knew that he had eaten the hair raw. When Jack found him in the snow, he must have been near, if he had not quite reached, the end of his resources, for he was certainly close to starvation and freezing. His hands and feet gave evidence of having been frost-bitten, but not seriously. Even had they chosen to do so, the castaways could not have kept from their new companion the state of their food supplies. When he saw how little they had left, he looked grave, for he realized that their generous sharing with him might bring them close to starvation long before the arrival of the first boat. So he made every effort to regain his strength that he might help in providing food, and it was surprising how rapidly he gained. From former visits there Mr. Graham knew much about that end of the island, and could answer many of the young people's questions. When the boys described the hole Larry had fallen into, he agreed with them that it might be the pit of an old Indian mine. There were probably few of the pits left in their original state, he said, for white men had established mines on the island, and had worked over the same ground where the Indians had once dug the copper. The richest ore had been exhausted rapidly, and the mines of the white men had been abandoned for many years. The old lighthouse dated back to the days of mining operations. After the light had been taken out, the place had remained unused, except occasionally for a few weeks in the summer as a dwelling house. The boys were much interested in what Mr. Graham had to tell of Indian mining. Of course the Indians did not work in the white man's way, he said, but simply dug off the topsoil and then broke up the rock with heavy hammers. Their hammerheads round boulders of heavy stone had once been common around the old mining sites. Native miners did their work a little at a time, but their operations on that island must have extended over hundreds of years. Undoubtedly they understood how to use fire to soften the metal so they could break and beat off portions. Firemarks had been found on the pit walls. The Indians never carried on steady operations, of course. They merely came to the mines now and then and dug out a piece to hammer into a knife or spearhead or some utensil or ornament. And they sometimes preserved queer-shaped nuggets as charms. They believed such fetishes would bring them good luck. End of chapter 29, chapter 30, When Light Houses Are Dark, by Ethel C. Brill. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. 30, An Unexpected Visitor. March came without any signs of spring. It seemed as cold as ever, and only the fact that the snow sometimes melted and settled a little under the stronger sun on bright days gave any indication that warm weather was drawing nearer. The food question grew more serious every day. The castaways had been for a long time without vegetables. The canned goods, including the milk, were exhausted. The dried fruit and sugar, which they had used very sparingly, were almost gone. There was a little baking powder but no yeast, so hoecakes, biscuits, and pancakes made without milk had taken the place of bread. These things with dried peas baked or made into soup and fish in game when they could get any were the young folks fair and the peas were nearly gone. One small piece of bacon Margaret was saving for an emergency. Did they hold out for a month or six weeks more? It did not seem possible that navigation to the island could be resumed before the middle of April. There was no perceptible break in the cold weather until the 14th of March when there came a sudden change. That morning the wind was blowing from the southwest, and before the sun had been up long water was running from the roof. All day and night the eaves dripped and the next day with a light wind directly in the south was still warmer. It turned a little colder that night, but the following afternoon when Ralph started out to fish the weather was still mild, the wind southeast, and the snow melting. It seemed like a genuine spring thaw. Even the hope that spring might be at hand did not lighten the boy's heart that day. Things had been going very wrong. Just as Lawrence's foot seemed to be getting well he had wrenched it trying to snowshoe, and that day it was badly swollen and inflamed again. What to do for it he did not know, and he was beginning to fear that without a doctor's care soon it would never get well. Neither Margaret nor Jack was feeling well because of their diet Meg thought. Mr. Graham was strong enough now to help with the hunting and fishing, but for nearly a week they had not succeeded in getting even a squirrel, although they had been driven at last to set snares. For four days they had not caught a fish. The night before the wolves had returned and had howled close to the house, keeping Ralph awake with anything but pleasant thoughts. As the wet snow slumped under the snowshoes he was wondering how much longer if this thaw lasted it would be possible to fish at all. It would soon be unsafe to go out on the main lake, and there would come a time he thought when the ice in the harbor would be too honeycombed to hold him up, and yet there would not be open water enough to launch a boat. In a decidedly unhappy frame of mind he made his way towards some holes he had cut the day before, about a mile down the harbor. For several hours he watched for a bite, but not one of the little flags fluttered. He tramped about not daring to go far from the holes for fear of losing a fish. The sky had clouded over, and the southeast wind, blowing across miles of sodden snow and ice, chilled him to the bone. His clumsy moccasins were wet through, and his mind was a prey to the gloomiest thoughts. Suddenly an unexpected sound made him look around quickly. Someone had shouted. Nonsense, he thought to himself, I'm imagining things. It must have been the wind or a wolf. Then he heard it again, a man's voice, not a wolf's. Still he would not believe his senses. There isn't a man, except Larry and Mr. Graham, within 40 miles, and Mr. Graham is over beyond the lighthouse hunting. He looked towards the tower. Not a living thing was in sight. Again came the shout. Ralph turned and gazed down the harbor. In the distance, hazy from the melting snow, figures were moving, coming towards him, a man, two men, and something else, dogs, a team of dogs drawing a sled. What could it mean? Where did they come from? Was he seeing something that was not there? Had he gone crazy? One of the men shouted again. Ralph started towards them, fishing lines and holes forgotten. His only thought was that there were human beings. He had not gone far, however, when he stopped in doubt. What sort of men were those with the dog team? Trappers, Indians, tough characters, against whom he would have to be on his guard? He thought of Margaret and Jack, and wondered if this was a new peril approaching. The joy he had felt at the sight of human beings vanished as suddenly as it had come, and fear took its place. There were only two of the newcomers, though. Whatever they were, he and Larry and Mr. Graham ought to be a match for them. At any rate, he must find out where they came from. So he went forward again. As he drew nearer, he was far from reassured. The man on ahead of the dogs was a villainous looking object, Indian or half-breed. The other one, with his cap pulled low, and a several days growth of beard, was not much more prepossessing. The latter shouted to him. Hello, he said, do you live around here somewhere? He did not speak like a half-breed or a Scandinavian. His accent was that of an American and an educated man, Ralph thought. And something about his voice seemed strangely familiar. But the boy did not intend to answer the question until he had a better look at the questioner. As he drew closer, the dogs acted as if they would attack him. But the man ahead said something to them in a fierce voice and flourished a long whip, and they, evidently knowing their master, quieted down. The other man repeated his question, do you live around here? Then, as Ralph made no answer, don't you speak English? No wonder he thought that Ralph did not understand him, for the lad was staring stupidly. He was looking full into the man's face, and he was beginning to think he had really gone crazy, or that the whole thing was a dream. Uncle Frank, he gasped. Ralph! It was not a dream. There was no mistaking the reality of the grip his uncle gave him. Where in the world did you come from, boy? His voice was husky with emotion. The others, where are they? Over there, Ralph pointed in the direction of the lighthouse, safe and all right. But where in the world did you come from, Uncle Frank? The Canadian shore. It's a long story. And how did you find us? I'll tell you by accident, but I'll tell you about it later. Take me to Margaret and Jack first. He turned towards the other man. This is Michael Lamotte. If it hadn't been for him, I shouldn't be here. The half-breed grinned and grunted of greeting, then unceremoniously ordered his dogs to mush. And they all started towards the lighthouse. The dog driver stopped his team on the beach, and Ralph and his uncle went around to the door. It happened that the others, busy in the house, did not see them. I think, said the boy, you'd better let me prepare Meg a little. She'll think she's gone crazy, just as I did. So we went in first, Margaret was in the kitchen. I've good news, Meg, he said. She looked at him in surprise. Didn't you get any fish? No, I've something better than fish. A hare? Better than a hare? How would you like to have a visitor? You must be crazy, Ralph. What do you mean? I mean that we have a visitor, the one person in the world you want most to see. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and opened the door. Here he is. The next minute, Meg was in Uncle Ralph's arms, laughing and crying at the same time as he hugged her, while Jack was dancing around them, trying to get a chance to be hugged too. Lawrence in the living room heard the racket and hobbled across the passage to see what was the matter. It's Uncle Frank, Ralph shouted to him, as he paused amazed in the doorway. This is Larry, Uncle Frank. And Uncle Frank freed one arm to shake hands with the bewildered Larry. For a few minutes, they all forgot, Michael. When Ralph went to call him to come in and get warm and have something to eat, he found the half-breed feeding his dogs, keeping them in order with his long whip, while he distributed their meal of frozen fish. Dr. Elliott was anxious to hear the castaway's story, and they were quite as eager to relate it. When they told of their mysterious enemy and how they had nursed him back to sanity, their uncle appeared much interested. And when Ralph mentioned Mr. Graham by name, Mr. Elliott leaned forward in his chair. What did you say his name was, he demanded? Mr. Graham, Robert Graham? Yes, do you know him? He's the man I came here to look for. Everyone in Fort William, he explained, believes that you were drowned during that fog. There seemed no other possible explanation of your disappearance. Lawrence has been sought and advertised for all over Canada, but no one now has any doubt that you all went down in the bay. On my way to your home, before I knew of your coming to Fort William, I stopped at Northern University, where I used to teach. There I learned of the disappearance of Robert Graham, an old pupil and friend of mine. He had been staying at the southwestern end of the island, they told me, with another scientist, doing geological and biological investigating. The two had planned to walk the length of the island, but at the last minute, the other man changed his mind and took the boat home, leaving Graham to make the trip alone. Unfortunately, his friends did not realize until after navigation had closed that he had really disappeared. While I was searching for some traces of you, I came across by accident the captain of a small wooden freighter who told me of seeing a flag of distress at the end of the long point. He had only a glimpse of it as he ran closer to the point than he intended in a severe wind and sleet storm early in December. Landing to investigate was an impossibility. He reached Fort William after a perilous trip, during which his boat was almost crushed by ice and told his story. Navigation had closed and no boats, either Canadian or American, had been reported missing, the crews of which could have reached the island. So no attempt was made to investigate. The story stuck in my mind, though, and I began to wonder if the signal had been raised by Graham and if he could still be alive. I resolved to find out if I could possibly reach the island. At that moment, the door opened and Mr. Graham came in. He stopped on the threshold and stared at the group. Hello, Graham, said Uncle Frank. That night they heard the whole of Dr. Elliot's story. The party he had been with had gone down to Newfoundland in the autumn, intending to spend the winter there and go back north in the spring. But during the winter, the leader of the expedition had been taken very ill. This misfortune upset the plans of the entire party and Dr. Elliot had returned to the United States. He had written to his niece and nephews several times but had received no answers to his letters. Becoming worried about them, he went to the city where they had lived. There he found the ruins of their house. No one in the neighborhood knew anything about the Elliot's but an officer of the trust company that handled their small property told him of their disappearance. The company had made inquiries and had learned that the young folks must have perished in the fog. Dr. Elliot went at once to Fort William but his investigations led to the conclusion that his niece and nephews must have been drowned. It was there, however, that he received the hint that his friend Robert Graham might possibly be alive on the island if he could have survived the winter. People tried to discourage him from attempting to cross to the island. He could not be sure that the ice was solid clear across, they said. Usually there was at least a channel of open water. Moreover, the ice might turn soft any day. Uncle Frank was not to be daunted. He laid in some supplies and looked about for a way to take them over. Luckily at Port Arthur, he came across Michael, a half-breed Cree from the Hudson Bay country who had a good dog team. The Indian readily agreed to accompany him. We didn't start a minute too soon, said Dr. Elliot. The sun aided by these south winds is softening the ice. Beyond Thunder Cape, they found open water and had to turn back and go down along the shore, halfway to Grand Portage, before they could get across. Even then they were obliged to make long circuits to avoid open places. Twice they jumped channels and once swam a stretch of icy water floating the sled across. Much of the ice was dangerously honeycombed and in one place they nearly lost the whole outfit when the sled went through. Because of such difficulties, it took them two days to go across along the northwest shore of the island and around the end. They had reached a Smith Harbor the night before. That morning they had searched the harbor discovering evidences that someone had been living there since the snow came. Then they had extended their search to the outer harbor. That night Dr. Elliot and the others talked until late and were so taken up with telling their adventures that they did not notice until they were ready to go to bed that rain was falling steadily. Spring seems to have really come at last, said Meg. But Uncle Frank looked grave and the half-breed gave a grunt of disgust. End of chapter 30, chapter 31 When Lighthouses Are Dark by Ethel C. Brill. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. 31, Robert Graham starts on a perilous trip. What do you think about crossing the lake, Michael? Dr. Elliot asked the creed the next morning. Michael shook his head. Going to be bad, he said. Disrain, make ice rotten. You're not going to go back and leave us, are you, Uncle Frank? Cried Meg in consternation. No, he replied gravely, of course not. I hoped, when I started out, that I might take Graham back to civilization if I found him. But it is out of the question for us to go now. You and I, Ralph, might possibly make it, but it would be an insane thing for the rest of you to attempt. We'll all have to stay here until the boats are running. I going, said the half-breed. You had better not risk it. Try it, insisted Michael. If no get cross, come back. I am going with you, said Robert Graham quietly. You mustn't try. On the contrary, I think I must. As Michael says, if we can't make it, we can come back. He gave Dr. Elliot a significant look, picked up his old hat and went out. Uncle Frank followed him. You're crazy to attempt it, Graham, he said when they were outside. I should be crazy if I didn't. You understand me, doctor. These young people took me in when I was little better than a beast. They cared for me and shared everything with me, depriving themselves to feed me. The supplies you brought won't last long. It may be several weeks before a boat can reach here. I am another mouth to feed. If I can get across, there will be that much more for the rest. My leg doesn't trouble me at all now, and I am in really good condition again, thanks to the care I have had. So I'm going to try it, and you're not going to raise objections. Dr. Elliot laid his hand on the young man's shoulder. No, Graham, he said, I won't raise objections. It had stopped raining and seemed to be turning colder when Robert Graham and the Indians started on their perilous trip to the Canadian shore. The others went out to see them off. At the last moment, Dr. Elliot pressed Mr. Graham's hand hard. God keep you, Bob, he said huskily. And all of you, the other replied. After the dog train had started, Uncle Frank and the young folk climbed the tower to take an observation. From the platform they could see away to the east and southeast, great stretches of open water. That was not the direction Michael had taken, however, and they hoped that somewhere between the island and the northwest shore, the ice might be continuous enough to make crossing possible. Mr. Graham, turning for a last look, saw them on the platform and waved his ragged hat. He had declined the cap that Ralph had pressed upon him, but had consented to take a muffler. Dr. Elliot had brought some warm, extra clothing, but Graham had positively refused to take any of it. The others would need it more than he would, he said. As that day passed and the next and the adventurers did not return, the lighthouse dwellers knew that they must either have crossed safely or gone down in the icy waters. They would surely have turned back if it looks dangerous, said Margaret. Dr. Elliot said nothing, but in his heart he felt certain that under no circumstances would Robert Graham come back to share their scanty store of food. One of the first things Uncle Frank did was to look at Lawrence's injury. He bandaged the ankle tightly and set himself to reduce the swelling and discoloration. Under his skillful care, the foot began to improve immediately. The next thing was to make a careful estimate of just how much they might use at each meal to make the food he had brought last through until the 1st of May. Relief might arrive before that time, but he did not think it safe to count on that. He found that the ration was altogether too small to keep them unless generously supplemented with fish and fresh meat. Not knowing whether he would be able to get back again, even if he succeeded in crossing to the island, Dr. Elliot had brought all the supplies the sled could carry, but he had expected to have not more than three people to feed. Having Uncle Frank with them seemed to change the whole aspect of things for the young people. He took command and they were glad to turn over the responsibility into obey orders. They felt an immense relief at having his knowledge and experience to rely on. Of course, he consulted with them and Ralph was proud of the confidence his uncle showed in his judgment and of the way he treated him, not like a small boy, but like a man and a comrade. Dr. Elliot devoted most of his days to fishing and hunting and for a time at least was more successful than the boys had been. He showed them where to look for game and taught them a number of devices for securing it. The second night after his arrival, the wolves came close to the house again. He slipped out quietly with his gun. Only two of the beasts were to be seen and he succeeded in shooting one of them. After that, the lighthouse dwellers heard no more howling. Accompanied by Ralph, he made several trips into the interior of the island where hairs were more plentiful. On one of these expeditions, the two found signs of moose. One or more of the animals had stripped a grove of young birch and poplar trees of buds, twigs, and a good part of the bark. Tracking them was impossible as snow had fallen since their departure from the place and had blotted out their trail. It was on that same trip that Ralph caught a glimpse of a slim-bodied, rat-headed little animal with glossy brown fur that his uncle said was a mink. Several times they found lynx tracks but did not get a sight of the beasts and the salves. Spring came very slowly. The snow settled gradually and at last the ice in the harbor began to soften. From the tower on clear days, the open water of the big lake could be seen, deep blue and dotted with floating ice. But most of the time fog and haze cut off the view in that direction. On the third of April there came a heavy rain. Just after they had gone to bed that night, the boys were startled by an explosion like the report of a gun. They could not imagine what it was, but Uncle Frank exclaimed, the ice is cracking. Several times during the night sharp reports waked them. In the morning they could see as they looked down the harbor, channels of open water, a spell of warmer weather with south winds and showers of rain and wet snow soon made the ice unsafe. Necessity kept the boys and Dr. Elliot fishing as long as possible, though they caught very little. After Ralph had broken through once and plunged waist deep into the water before Uncle Frank could rescue him and after the ladder had been cut off from shore by a new crack and forced to make a dangerous jump to safety, they gave up the attempt. Then came colder weather again, with north and west winds. Thin ice formed over many of the places that had been opened and the temperature seemed to promise a return to real winter. But on the 13th another warmer spell sat in with a strong wind from the southeast accompanied by gusts of rain and sleet. Then the young people saw a sight worth seeing. The gale blowing from the open lake tore the softened ice to pieces and heaped it upon the shores. Above the wild roar of the wind sounded the horse churning, grinding and pounding of the ice varied by an occasional sharp crack or explosion. Great cakes were hurled up on the shore, churned together by the action of the wind and water and piled high in a barricade that filled the beach between the two rocky promontories and rose higher than the top of the bank. Down the harbor as far as they could see the wind and waves set the ice in motion splitting it into pieces, churning it to powder and piling the debris on the shore. It was a wonderful sight and one the Elliott's and Larry never will forget. For two days and nights the wind blew. When the gale had blown itself out the harbor was no longer a sheet of ice and sodden snow but blue water again with ice cakes, large and small, floating upon it and great drifts of broken and pulverized ice heaped up on the points and on the shores that were open to the wind. Dr. Elliott felt that the boat must come before long. They were all more than ready for relief. The rations to which they had been reduced were scanty indeed and everyone longed for a hearty meal and above all for something different. Larry said he would give all he possessed for a beef steak while Ralph yearned for a piece of cake or pie. They were all in fair physical shape though. Margaret, Ralph and Larry were thinner than usual but hard and muscular and the latter's foot and ankle were all right again while Jack's sturdy frame made him look a different boy from the white delicate little fellow who had come to superior less than a year before. All had grown in height and broadened in shoulders and chest until their worn clothes were most uncomfortably small. Every day they watched for the first steamer which would probably bring the fishermen. A week passed, a week of raw weather, chilling winds and much fog. Early spring on Lake Superior is not a pleasant season. During that time there came one bit of encouragement. Lawrence climbing to the tower platform caught sight far off across the water of a thin column of smoke, the smoke of a steamer. He called the rest and they raced up the winding stairs and watched that smoke as long as there was a sign of it visible. It was the first sure evidence that navigation was open. End of chapter 31, chapter 32. When lighthouses are dark by Ethel C. Brill, this LibriVox recording is in the public domain. 32, the light in the tower. While the harbor was still frozen over, Dr. Elliott had shot several hairs on one of the outer islands. When the ice went out, the boys had put one of the flat bottomed rowboats from the fishing camp into the water and one afternoon a few days after they had seen the smoke column, he and Larry decided to try their luck on that island. They had not been gone very long when the wind began to come up and as the afternoon wore on, it blew harder and harder. Before sunset, the open lake was covered with big waves and the ice cakes were careering madly about. How in the world are Uncle Frank and Larry going to get back, I wonder, said Ralph to Meg as they watched the waves. I don't see how they can cross from that island in this gale. They didn't take anything to eat, what will they do? Cook a hair if they get one. Trust Uncle Frank to manage some way. They'll probably turn up before long. Darkness came and the hunters did not return. The three Elliott's ate their scanty meal, washed the dishes and settled themselves in the living room for the evening. But they were restless and uneasy and were continually listening to the gale shrieking around the house and the waves thundering on the shore. There was no rain accompanying the wind, but the sky was overcast and the night intensely dark. About eight o'clock there came a lull in the wind. I believe it's going down, said Ralph. Maybe, suggested Margaret, if the wind goes down, they can get across yet tonight. Perhaps, he answered, if the waves are not running too high, it's so dark though, she went on doubtfully. They might lose their way and run on the rocks. If the lantern was still in the tower, Jack put in, we might light it and show them the way. I wish it was there, exclaimed Meg. Then she had a bright idea. Let's get out that old headlight from under the stairs, she said, and put it in the tower. It will guide them if they try to cross. I don't believe they'll attempt it, Ralph replied. Let's light it anyway, she insisted. It can't do any harm. They can see it from the island and know that we are thinking about them at least. I don't remember noticing whether it had any wick. We'll get it out and see. And she jumped up and started for the passageway. She was so much in earnest about the matter that the boys followed her. They found that the old lamp had a wick dry and hard, but still good for something. Meg washed the glass and cleaned the burner while Ralph polished the reflector. There was only a little kerosene left, but enough to fill the lamp. Nevermind if we do use it all, said Meg. I filled the lamps and lantern today and there's a whole box of candles. They had some trouble lighting the dried wick, but when they succeeded in making it burn, the lamp gave a good, strong light. Ralph and Jack pulled off some boards on the side of the lamp room looking down the harbor. In the opening they set the headlight. The rest of the boarding protected it from the wind. The wind had come up again and struck the tower so hard Ralph could scarcely stand upright on the platform. He was sure that Uncle Frank would never try to cross in such a gale, but as Margaret said, the light if they happened to catch sight of it might cheer them up a little. The three went back to the living room and tried to settle down, but even Jack was restless. It was past his bedtime, but he begged to be allowed to sit up a little longer. After nine o'clock, they heard the kitchen door burst open and running out found the two hunters, bruised, battered, wet to the waist and looking utterly exhausted. Did you see our light? The three cried in chorus. Light, what light? The light in the tower. Couldn't you see it from that island? Said Meg. Island, where do you think we've been all this time? But Ralph exclaimed, you went over to one of the islands. We watched you go. Dr. Elliot explained that they had left the island just as the sun was going down. We didn't succeed in finding a single hare, he said. We wandered about for a couple of hours without even seeing a track. Coming out of the woods on the outer shore, we discovered that the lake was rough. We had noticed considerable winds in the treetops, but we hadn't realized it was so bad. Of course, we set out at once to cross the island, but because of the wet snow and thick growth, it took us a long time. When we reached the boat, we found the waves rolling between us and home. To make the crossing worse, the ice-kicks were coming in from the open lake in veritable flotillas. I decided that the only chance for us was to go straight across the harbor, where the wind didn't have so much of a sweep. Coming over to the point was out of the question. It was a dangerous crossing even then. We didn't land, but turned and pulled up the harbor as close to the shore as we dared. We thought that when we came opposite the fishing camp, we could cross safely, but it wasn't so easy as it sounds. The wind kept carrying us in. We had to work for all we were worth to keep from being dashed on the shore. Then, all of a sudden, the wind whipped around from east to northeast and almost swamped us. Larry had to bail as fast as he could while I handled the oars. By that time, it was getting dark and blowing harder than ever. Crossing was impossible. The wind carried us a mile or more beyond the fishing camp before we managed to get across the harbor again. Then, when we came near shore, we ran into the ice in the darkness and smashed the bow of the boat. We had to jump for safety, but fortunately landed on solid ice. We succeeded in saving what was left of the boat by pulling it up over the ice to the shore. Not an easy thing to do in the darkness with a gale blowing. We were still a long way from home and the wind was blowing harder and harder, bending the trees as if it would bring them down over our heads. The darkness was so pitchy we could not see where we were going. And the battery in my pocket light had given out. We should have been lost a dozen times if we hadn't kept near shore and why we didn't break some of our bones in our various tumbles, I don't know. Once, Larry went down into a snow-filled gully and I had to pull him out. The wanderers changed to some dry clothes while Meg prepared supper for them. While they ate, Ralph looked after the stoves and made ready for night. Finding that more wood was needed, he started to go out to the wood pile. As he opened the back door, he heard something that brought his heart into his mouth. Above the noise of the wind and the surf, there sounded in his ears the hoarse whistle of a steamboat. He could hardly believe his senses, but the sound came again. Uncle Frank, Larry, he cried wildly. The boat is coming and he dashed out of the door. The others had heard the whistle too and Larry, leaving his supper, was at Ralph's heels in a moment. They had gone some distance before Dr. Elliot with a lighted lantern joined them. They hurried over the trail among the trees which bent and creaked with wind, Uncle Frank, ahead. As they went out on the dock, the lights of the steamer were close at hand. Dr. Elliot raised his lantern and swung it around his head and the boat whistled in reply. In a few moments, she had drawn up to the dock, a little sheltered there from wind and waves. Ralph had never been so excited in his life. He trembled all over and his teeth chattered as if with a chill. Yet he could hardly believe that this was the long-looked-for steamer and not a dream. Afterwards, he had only a vague remembrance of what happened when the boat came in, of men leaping out on the dock and surrounding the three, of Mr. Graham seizing him in a veritable bear hug, of a confusion of questions and answers and of the captain shaking him warmly by the hand. You put the light in the tower? Ralph heard him ask. Well, I guess maybe you saved us from an accident. The light, exclaimed Uncle Frank, I had forgotten all about it. End of chapter 32. Chapter 33, When Light Houses Are Dark, by Ethel C. Brill. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. 33, Linked With The World Again. The fishermen with wives and children had arrived. The Elliot's and their gladness to see human beings invited them all to the lighthouse, but the fishermen declined. They would soon be settled in their cabins, they said. Then the boys remembered that they had used up the woodpile and had smashed one of the boats. They explained, promised to replace the boat and offered the men wood. The fishermen accepted the explanation very good-naturedly. Because of the gale, the steamer would not start out until morning, the captain said. Uncle Frank went on board with him while Mr. Graham returned with Lawrence and Ralph to the house. It was nearly an hour before Dr. Elliot joined them, and in the meanwhile, Mr. Graham had told the story of his trip across the ice. It had been a perilous journey. The sled and one dog had been lost, and both men had narrowly escaped drowning. As a result of several plunges into the icy water, after all his previous exposure and privation, Robert Graham had reached shore more dead than alive. Michael had left him, suffering with a sharp attack of pneumonia at a little settlement on the northwest shore. If I had not been so ill, he explained, I might have brought relief to you before. When I was able to be up, they told me the boat for the island might come from Duluth any day, but I couldn't wait. I managed to reach Fort William, but before I could find anyone to come for you, the regular boat arrived. Because of the danger of floating ice, the captain held her there three days. When we left in the middle of the afternoon, the wind was not so bad, but it came up rapidly, and the ice, driven by the gale, increased the peril of the trip and delayed us considerably. Your friends, the Thorsons, were not on board, and the ice prevented us from entering the middle harbor. The searchlight was out of order, and the captain had to feel his way up this harbor in the darkness. Then we caught sight of your light. We were sure at once that you must have placed it in the old tower. What did the captain mean by saying we had saved him from an accident? When he saw the light, he had not realized that he was so far up the harbor. In the darkness and wind, even he, good pilot though he is, had lost his bearings a little. So he might easily have run on the rocks, had not the lamp warned him of his whereabouts. Then our light was of use, cried Meg. How lucky we thought of it. Mr. Graham smiled. I don't suppose you realize, he said, that what you did might have had less happy results. The old tower has been unused for many years. No pilot would expect to find a light there. Consequently, the sight of one might easily confuse some steersmen. He might take it for one of the regular lights, think he was out of his course and come to grief. I never thought of that, Ralph exclaimed aghast. I'll go and put out that light this minute. When Dr. Elliot returned, he too spoke of the lamp, explaining that there were heavy penalties for lighting false lamps to confuse mariners. The brother and sister gasped when they realized what they had done. Their uncle gave them some comfort, however. Luckily, he said, your light could be seen only from the harbor where few boats come and it wasn't a flashing light or a very strong one. So the danger of anyone's taking it for one of the regular lights was slight. Still, I think that you ought to understand that it was both an unwise and an unlawful thing to do. However, and he smiled, the captain says he won't give you away so there won't be any fines to pay. There may be some for fishing or hunting out of season, though. I don't know just what the laws are in regard to such things. We can straighten that out when we get back to civilization. Mr. Graham returned to the boat about midnight and at a quarter to six the next morning, the happy castaways went on board. The wind had shifted and gone down considerably and the sky was clear. After being so long in the woods, the young folk felt like strangers in a strange land when they reached the city of Duluth. The first night in a hotel, they could not sleep because of the noise in the streets under their windows and they found steam heated rooms altogether too warm for comfort, but the things they had to eat certainly tasted good. Dr. Elliot Lawrence and Mr. Graham sought out the fishermen with whose possessions the castaways had made so free and paid them liberally for everything used. The Thorsen brothers were thoroughly good-natured about the matter. They explained that the two of them, Newt and Oli and Newt's wife, had intended to stay in Smith Harbor all winter as they had done once several years before to trap fur-bearing animals and fish through the ice. So they had laid in most of their supplies early before autumn storms and severe weather were to be expected. They were well supplied with everything they needed except gasoline for their launch when they found that it would be necessary for them to return to Duluth to look after some business, select their traps, and buy a few other things that they wished to select in person. The regular steamer did not carry gasoline, but the fishing stations were supplied by a small boat that made occasional trips to the island. The young people had found only about a quart of gasoline at the camp so it was evident that the oil boat had either failed to stop at the Thorsens or what was more likely had put into the harbor before the castaways reached there, but finding the fishermen gone had taken for granted that they did not want any more oil. Intending to go back to the island on the boat, the young people had missed when they made their trip into the interior. The fishermen had been delayed for another week. They were on the steamer win in the northeaster. She had run on a rock and damaged her steering gear and had been obliged to put into a little north shore port and then return to Duluth. Before the next boat day, Newt Thorsen had the misfortune to break his leg. The accident spoiled his plans, but his brother Olly determined to go without him if he could find a partner to share the work and loneliness. Before he found a satisfactory companion, he was offered work at good pay for the winter and changed his mind. Obliged to go to work at once, he had no chance to return to Smith Harbor and bring away the supplies stored there. The Thorsens did not worry about those supplies. Most of the things would keep until spring and the loss from the freezing and spoiling of canned goods and vegetables would amount to scarcely more than the expense of transporting them back to Duluth. They were sincerely glad that their stores had saved the castaways lives. The good guide had surely been looking after them, said Mrs. Thorsen, with tears in her eyes. She positively refused to take any pay for the jelly and jam and canned blueberries she had put up and the young folk had eaten, though Larry pressed the money earnestly upon her. Dr. Elliott also sought out the man who owned the cabin on the Little Island. This man and his wife and son were much interested in the castaways' experiences and objected at first to taking any money from them. He finally consented, however, to permit Dr. Elliott and Lawrence to pay for rebuilding the house. The man who owned the shack, where the boys had borrowed the rowboat, did not live in Duluth, but the steamer captain knew him and promised to get the fishermen to take his boat from the outer harbor to Smith Harbor and to pay him the rental money Lawrence left for him. After the inquiries had been completed and the debts paid, the party separated. Larry starting east to meet his guardian who had to return from Europe the first of May and Mr. Graham going to Chicago where he had relatives. The Elliott's went back to their home city. It was with genuine regret that the goodbyes were said for warm and lasting friendships had grown up among them, friendships that would never be forgotten. Dr. Elliott, who was a bachelor, had made up his mind that henceforth his niece and nephews should live with him. You belong to me now, he said, and I'm going to keep an eye on you. No more winters on deserted islands for you. I'm sure, replied Margaret, that we never want another adventure like that. We've all had adventure enough to last us the rest of our lives. End of chapter 33. End of When Lighthouses Are Dark, a story of a Lake Superior Island by Ethel C. Brill.