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“Let go when I say,” he shouted, “and don’t–grab–anything, do you hear? Don’t–grab. Now, let go.”

The next minute the man lay in the dory, dragged over the stern by Netty’s grip on his collar.

“Lie still,” ordered Natty, clutching the oars. To row around the overturned boat, amid the swirl of water about her, was a task that taxed Netty’s skill and strength to the utmost. The other man was dragged in over the bow, and with a gasp of relief Natty pulled away from the sinking boat. Once clear of her he could not row for a few minutes; he was shaking from head to foot with the reaction from tremendous effort and strain.

“This’ll never do,” he muttered. “I’m not going to be a baby now. But will I ever be able to row back?”

Presently, however, he was able to grip his oars again and pull for the lighthouse, whose beacon loomed dimly through the fog like a great blur of whiter mist. The men, obedient to his orders, lay quietly where he had placed them, and before long Natty was back again at the lighthouse landing, where Prue was waiting, wild with anxiety. The men were helped out and assisted up to the lighthouse, where Natty went to hunt up dry clothes for them, and Prue flew about to prepare hot drinks.

“To think that that child saved us!” exclaimed one of the men. “Why, I didn’t think a grown man had the strength to do what he did. He is your brother, I suppose, Miss Miller. You have another brother, I think?”

“Oh, yes–Everett–but he is away,” explained Prue. “We heard your shouts and Natty insisted on going at once to your rescue.”

“Well, he came just in time. I couldn’t have held on another minute–was so done up I couldn’t have moved or spoken all the way here even if he hadn’t commanded me to keep perfectly still.”

Natty returned at this moment and exclaimed, “Why, it is Mr. Barr. I didn’t recognize you before.”

“Barr it is, young man. This gentleman is my friend, Mr. Blackmore. We have been celebrating Victoria Day by a shooting tramp over Little Bear. We hired a boat from Ford at the Harbour Head this morning–the Cockawee, he called her–and sailed over. I don’t know much about running a boat, but Blackmore here thinks he does. We were at the other side of the island when the fog came up. We hurried across it, but it was almost dark when we reached our boat. We sailed around the point and then the boat just simply upset–don’t know why–“

“But I know why,” interrupted Natty indignantly. “That Cockawee does nothing but upset. She has turned turtle twice out in the harbour in fine weather. Ford was a rascal to let her to you. He might have known what would happen. Why–why–it was almost murder to let you go!”

“I thought there must be something queer about her,” declared Mr. Blackmore. “I do know how to handle a boat despite my friend’s gibe, and there was no reason why she should have upset like that. That Ford ought to be horsewhipped.”

Thanks to Prue’s stinging hot decoctions of black currant drink, the two gentlemen were no worse for their drenching and exposure, and the next morning Natty took them to the mainland in the Merry Maid. When he parted with them, Mr. Barr shook his hand heartily and said: “Thank you, my boy. You’re a plucky youngster and a skilful one, too. Tell your brother that if I can get the Blue Point lighthouse berth for him I will, and as for yourself, you will always find a friend in me, and if I can ever do anything for you I will.”

Two weeks later Everett received an official document formally appointing him keeper of Blue Point Island light. Natty carried the news to the mainland, where it was joyfully received among the fishermen.

“Only right and fair,” said Cooper Creasy. “Blue Point without a Miller to light up wouldn’t seem the thing at all, that’s what. And it’s nothing but Ev’s doo.”

“Guess Natty had more to do with it than Ev,” said Adam, perpetrating a very poor pun and being immensely applauded therefor. It keyed Will Scott up to rival Adam.

“You said that Irving had a pull and the Millers hadn’t,” he said jocularly. “But it looks as if ’twas Natty’s pull did the business after all–his pull over to Bear Island and back.”

“It was about a miracle that a boy could do what he did on such a night,” said Charles Macey.

“Where’s Ford?” asked Natty uncomfortably. He hated to have his exploit talked about.

“Ford has cleared out,” said Cooper, “gone down to Summerside to go into Tobe Meekins’s factory there. Best thing he could do, that’s what. Folks here hadn’t no use for him after letting that death trap to them two men–even if they was Lib’rals. The Cockawee druv ashore on Little Bear, and there she’s going to remain, I guess. D’ye want a berth in my mackerel boat this summer, Natty?”

“I do,” said Natty, “but I thought you said you were full.”

“I guess I can make room for you,” said Cooper. “A boy with such grit and muscle ain’t to be allowed to go to seed on Blue Point, that’s what. Yesser, we’ll make room for you.”

And Natty’s cup of happiness was full.