“Don’t jump yet,” said Dora Stanhope, as bravely as she could.
“Oh, girls, we’ll be burned to death! I know it, I feel it!” wailed another seminary student.
“We are near Brill College,” said another. “Let us cry for help!” And then commenced the screaming that reached the players on the ball field and others near the water’s edge.
In the meantime, the captain of the steamer, aided by his men, was doing all in his power to subdue the flames. But oil when on fire is a hard thing to fight. The blaze was close to the engine room, and presently both the engineer and the firemen were driven from their posts. Then the steamer became unmanageable and drifted on the mud shoal, as already mentioned.
“We’ll have to get out the small boats,” cried the captain. But even as he spoke he knew that the small boats were of no avail, for they had not been used since the Thistle had been put into commission, three years before, and they were dried out, and would fill with water as soon as unshipped. Life preservers were to be had, and a few of the girls were thoughtful enough to supply themselves with these.
“Crowd her, Stanley!” cried Dick, as the launch headed straight for the burning steamer.
“I’ll give her all she will stand,” responded the owner of the launch, and he turned the lever down another notch. The revolutions of the flywheel increased, and the water was churned up in a white foam at the stern.
“Look out, back there, that you aren’t swamped!” yelled Stanley to Tom and Sam.
“We’ll look out!” was Sam’s answer. “Only hurry up, that’s all!”
As the launch and the rowboat it was towing neared the burning steamer the college students gazed eagerly at the forms on the forward deck of the Thistle. Nearly all of the seminary girls were still screaming, and some were waving their arms wildly.
“Help! help! help!” was the cry wafted over the water.
“We are coming!” yelled Dick. “Don’t jump overboard unless you are good swimmers!”
“Dick! Dick!” screamed Dora. “Oh, Dick!”
“Dora!” he answered.
“Oh, Tom!” came from Nellie. “Please take us off!”
“Sam, you are just in time!” added Grace.
“We’ll get you off – don’t worry!” cried Dick. “Just wait till we can bring the boats alongside and then – ”
He was interrupted by a mad yell from one of the men on the steamer.
“Hurry up and leave!” yelled the man in terror. “We can’t get at the boilers no more and I guess she is going to blow up!”
CHAPTER III
COLLEGE BOYS TO THE RESCUE
“Oh, Dick! do you think the steamer will really blow up?” gasped Sam, as the two small boats ranged up beside the larger vessel.
“Perhaps – if they can’t get at the boilers to let off steam,” was Dick’s answer. “But they ought to have safety valves.”
“Maybe the man is so excited he doesn’t know what he is talking about,” put in Tom.
Fortunately the Thistle was not a high boat, but broad and shallow, so the rail of the vessel was but a few feet above that of the launch and the rowboat.
“Come, Dora, and Nellie and Grace!” called out Dick. “We’ll help you down.” He turned to Stanley. “Can you hold her?”
“Sure! But what are you going to do?”
“Climb up to the rail and help them down.”
“I’ll do the same!” cried Tom. “Steady the rowboat, Sam!”
In a few seconds Dick and Tom were at the rail of the Thistle. All of the girls who had been out for a picnic were in a bunch, and many of them were still screaming for help. But Dora and the Laning girls were now quiet, realizing that aid was close at hand. Another gasolene launch was coming up, dragging behind it nearly every rowboat Brill possessed.
It did not take Dick long to assist Dora over the rail and into the launch, and Nellie and Grace and several other girls followed. In the meantime Sam rescued a teacher and two girls. By this time the other launch was at hand, with the additional rowboats, and in a very few minutes all of the passengers of the Thistle had been transferred. In the excitement one of the college boys and one of the seminary girls fell overboard, but the other Brill lads promptly came to the rescue.
“Let us land the girls on the shore and then try to save the steamer,” suggested Dick.
“That’s the talk!” cried Stanley.
“Be careful – if she is ready to blow up!” warned Spud. “I don’t want to be blown into the middle of next year!”
“She won’t blow up!” cried the captain, who was still trying to direct his men as to what to do. “Don’t you hear the steam going off?”
“Then we’ll do what we can for you,” answered several of the college youths.
One after another the small boats landed on the shore, which was but a hundred yards away.
“Sam, you stay with the girls,” said Dick to his youngest brother. “They may want you to do something for them.”
“Oh, Dick, don’t get into trouble!” begged Dora, and bent her tender eyes full upon him.
“Don’t worry, Dora.”
“And, Tom, you be careful, too,” added Nellie.
“I will, Nellie,” he answered.
Both of the gasolene launches, with eight of the college boys on board, returned to the Thistle. The thick smoke of the burning oil was still rolling up the companionways and hatchways. But, with the deck cleared of passengers, the crew had a better chance to fight the flames.
“Captain, what can we do?” demanded Dick, as he climbed on deck, followed by Stanley and by Allen Charter, who owned the second launch.
“I don’t know,” answered the master of the vessel, almost helplessly. “That oil burns like fury.”
“Wouldn’t sand be good for the flames?” questioned Allen.
“Yes – but I ain’t got none – that is, not more’n a shovelful or two.”
“There is sand up at the boat dock!” cried Stanley. “They are going to use it for the new garage foundation.”
“Maybe we can haul the steamer up there,” suggested another student.
“We can try it,” answered Allen Charter. “What do you say, Captain?”
“I’m willing – if you can budge her.”
“She can’t be stuck very fast,” said Tom.
The college boys got into the two launches once more, and as speedily as possible ropes were fastened to the Thistle. Then the launches were started up and all power was turned on. At first the big vessel refused to budge.
“Don’t seem to be making any headway,” observed Frank Holden.
“Here we go!” cried Dick, and he was right. Slowly the Thistle moved off the mud shoal and commenced to turn. Then as slowly the vessel followed the two launches in the direction of the dock.
“We want sand!” yelled some of the boys on board. “Get the sand ready!”
The cries were understood, and by the time the Thistle was brought close to the dock, fully a score of boys stood ready with boxes and pails of sand to come on board. A gangplank was thrown out, and on deck hurried the sand carriers.
“That’s the stuff!” cried the captain, and his face