that one of the tool-houses had been blown in. I watched those men
like a hen does her chickens, and we didn't have a single accident in
the building of Tillamook Rock Light after the work of actual
construction was begun."

"You're sorry to say good-by to the old light, Father," said the boy
sympathetically.

The old inspector roused himself from a reverie into which he had
fallen.

"Yes," he admitted, "I am. But what the Commissioner says, goes! Of
course it's always interesting to face new problems, and I'll have a
freer hand on the Lakes. It'll be easier for you to get home from the
East, too, when you're at the Academy."

"That's providing I get there all right," agreed Eric. "Winning into the
Coast Guard is just about the one thing I want most in the world."

"And like everything else in the world that's worth getting, you've got
to work for it," his father added. "Well, here we are at the wharf
again. This is probably the last time you'll smell the old Pacific,
Eric, for in another week it'll be a case of 'Go East, young man, go
East!'"

"I hope it isn't going to be too cold for Mother," the boy suggested.

"It'll be cold enough, don't you worry about that," the other answered,
"I've heard enough about the Great Lakes. But it's a clear cold, not
damp like it is out here. The cold won't hurt you, anyway. It'll give
you a chance to harden up."

When, ten days later, Eric helped the family to settle in its new home
in Detroit, the headquarters of the Eleventh Lighthouse District, he
thought his fears of cold would be unfounded. The unusual beauty of the
city of Detroit in the haze of an autumn afternoon, gave no sense of a
rigorous winter. This feeling received a jolt, however, when,
strolling along the river front next day, he came across two of the huge
ice-breaker car ferries, awaiting their call to defy Jack Frost. He was
standing watching them, and trying to picture 'the Dardanelles of
America' under the grip of ice, when a boy about his own age, with one
arm in a sling, slapped him on the shoulder.

[Illustration: THE DEFIER OF THE PACIFIC.

Tillamook Rock, against which six thousand miles of ocean surges beat in
vain.

Courtesy of U.S. Bureau of Lighthouses.]

"Ed!" exclaimed Eric. "Who'd have thought of seeing you here!"

"Why not, old man?" said the other laughing, "I live here."

"Do you? Bully! So do I. The folks moved here yesterday."

"Your father, too?"

"Sure."

"I thought