his mind in a whirl, pressed in as much tow as the basket would hold and then thrust the axe under the receptacle's handle.
"Now, come on!"
As Turner passed the closet, he reinforced Jimmy's desperate efforts to bring the mulatto to full consciousness. Finally, the cook came forth, rolling his eyes about in his coffee-colored face. At sight of the oil can, he faltered and fell into a state of agitation, looking for all the world like a fish out of the water, gasping for breath. Clearly his suspicions ran along with those Cat had expressed.
"Lighthouse light out. Going to set a shack up the beach on fire," blurted Turner to relieve the suspense. "Here, take that basket." He pointed to a huge one in the pantry. "And you and Jimmy pile in it every magazine and newspaper in sight; then clamp the lid on, and make the best time you know how up to that old Thompson cottage. You understand? Lightning quick. And lock the door after you when you come out."
Luke, now completely awake and consoled by the news that the roof was not to be burned over
