"Here come two boats!" exclaimed Lane.
Sure enough, they were clearly visible, more than two miles off, rising and falling on the swell, their oars flashing in the light from the conflagration. The crew had abandoned the hopeless fight and were saving themselves.
"Keep her straight for 'em, Perce!" directed Jim.
Whittington obeyed. Soon the Barracouta was within hailing distance of the dories. In the now diminishing light from the distant fire the boys could see that both were crowded with dark figures.
"Must be at least twenty-five aboard the two," commented Stevens.
"Yes," returned Spurling. "These fishermen carry big crews. Ahoy there! What's the name of your vessel?"
"The Clementine Briggs, of Gloucester," replied a man in the bow of the foremost dory. "Running in to Boothbay from Cashe's with a load of herring. The gas exploded and set her on fire. We tried to put it out, but it was no use. Just got clear with our lives and what we stood in."
"Anybody hurt?"
"Couple of men got their faces burnt, but not very bad. Lucky it was no worse. But the old schooner's gone. Pretty tough on Captain Sykes, here, for he owned most of her and didn't have much insurance. Fisherman's luck!"
"Want a tow in to the island?"