CHAPTER VI
WINNING THE ROCK
Thump, thump, thump.
“Hi, Jack! Hello, Ray! Come, wake up. Think you can sleep all day? It’s half-past five.”
Thus were the two lads aroused next morning by Mr. Warner as he came from his room across the hall.
“Come,” he added, “tumble out. The boat will start for the rock before you are dressed.”
This was enough to stir both lads, for they had set their hearts on taking part in the tussle with the waves to gain the top of Cobra Head. They were on their feet in a jiffy and presently were whisking on their clothes with little regard for sartorial effect. Jack managed to get his undershirt on wrong side out, as boys frequently do when they are in a hurry, and Ray discovered that he was trying to get his left foot into his right shoe. But in a remarkably short time they had adjusted things, dashed cold water in their faces, given their hair a brief but effective brushing, and emerged from their room.
Ray’s arm was a little stiff at first, but the iodine that had been applied the day before had taken most of the soreness out of the cut and he positively refused to keep his hand in a sling any longer.
“I’ll keep on the bandage, but I won’t wear a sling. Makes me feel like an invalid,” he told Jack as they descended the stairs and joined Mr. Warner in front of the lighthouse cottage.
Captain Eli was of course snugly tucked in bed and snoring lustily at that unseemly hour, and since the engineer and his young companions were destined to be early risers during their stay on the island it had been decided that they take their breakfast with the crew in the main mess-hall.
Bongo, the big negro cook of the outfit, was just sounding his call to quarters on the bottom of a big dishpan when the three entered the long low building. There was little of a decorative nature about the arrangement of the tables in the hall. There were two, that extended the full length of the room and were flanked on either side by long backless benches.