“Great!” exclaimed Jack, but he reserved the details of that pleasure for future consideration while he made himself acquainted with the camp.
Over near the edge of the promontory was a great pile of trimmed granite blocks, a huge stack of cement bags covered over with tarpaulins, two donkey engines, a cement mixer, a steel tower, and myriads of tools, tool chests, etc. Jack contemplated all this with sparkling eyes.
“Jiminy, but this is going to be an interesting place in a day or two,” exclaimed Jack. Then—“Say, Mr. Warner, why are those granite blocks all cut so peculiarly? They look like sections of a great big jig-saw puzzle.”
“Why, that is a detail of lighthouse building that is very interesting,” said Mr. Warner, “and I will tell you about it just as soon as I can. In the meantime you—Say, Jack, there’s our swordfisherman again. It’s the same yawl. See the patch in her sail and there’s her name—Fish Hawk.”
Sure enough, there was the yawl Jack had watched so intently from the deck of the Blueflower. The little vessel was running across the wind and had evidently just come out from behind the southern end of Hood Island. She was plowing along at fine speed about one hundred yards off the reef.
Jack paused to admire her trim lines and he felt that with a coat of white paint and a new set of sails she would be a creditable yacht. The way she covered the mile and a quarter from the southern end of the jagged rocks to the opening through which the tender had sailed, was nothing less than remarkable.
“Jiminy, but she’s a swift sailing vessel,” exclaimed Mr. Warner. “I wonder who—Look! Jack! Quick! Some one has jumped overboard! Look, he’s swimming ashore! Look at him plow through the water! By George, what strokes! He’s heading for the inlet! He’ll be drowned! The currents there will suck him under! He’ll get caught in the undertow! The idiot!”
Jack had seen it all. When the swordfisherman reached the inlet, there was a scramble on deck and an instant later the figure of a boy appeared on the gunwale. A moment he paused there, balanced for a dive. Then with a pretty spring he shot out and down and entered the water without a splash. The next instant his head appeared in view, and he struck out with a powerful overhand stroke straight for the inlet, while the yawl went racing on ahead.
A great shout went up from the crew of the fisherman when they saw the boy in the water, and several men bawled orders and shifted sails. Then, with loud creaking and squeaking of blocks and tackle, the vessel started to come about. But her headway was enough to carry her several hundred feet past the inlet and by the time she had turned completely and headed back toward the swimmer, the lad in the water was almost in the opening between the rocks.
The fishermen saw in a moment that they were baffled and being unfamiliar with the channel through the opening they dared not try to run through it with the yawl. Once again the sailing vessel turned; this time to stand away from the reef and out of the suction of the dangerous eddies.