tied the black scarf in a sailor’s knot, she hugged him suddenly.
Jim had cooked a very creditable omelet, and Joan ran downstairs at his call, with Garth’s coat over her arm.
"You didn’t know that I was skilled in light housekeeping, as well as in lighthouse-keeping, did you?" Jim said, as he put the coffee-pot upon the table.
Garth was still upstairs, saying a long farewell to his mother.
"You’d think he was starting on a three years’ cruise," said Jim. "Hi, Pem!" he shouted. "My unsurpassed cookery is growing cold, and the Pettasantuck leaves in exactly forty-nine and a half minutes."
Garth came down finally, a little silent, and they made a hasty meal.
"I can leave the place long enough to take you in," said Jim, pouring coffee. "The bell’s wound for six hours, and Caleb won’t let it stop."
"Mudder’s here, too," said Garth.
"Yes," Jim said; "and I’ve no doubt she’d be as heroic as the lightkeepers’ wives in books. If the bell stopped, she’d probably rise from
