The boy got these out and arranged everything for the start. When Jimson came back with four lusty negroes—all hands from the warehouse and gin-house—Curly was impatiently waiting for them. The fire across the river had assumed greater proportions.
“That ain’t the hotel, boss,” said one of the negroes, with assurance.
“What is it, then?” demanded Jimson.
“It’s got t’ be the cottage dishyer side ob the hotel. But, fo’ goodness’ sake! de hotel’s gwine t’ burn, too.”
“And all them folkses in hit!” groaned another.
“Shut up and come on!” commanded Jimson. “We’ll git acrosst and see what’s what.”
“If we kin git acrosst,” grumbled another of the men. “Looks mighty spasmdous t’ me. Dat watah’s sho’ high.”
But Curly was casting off the mooring, and in a moment the big, clumsy boat swung out into the current.
CHAPTER XIX—“IF AUNT RACHEL WERE ONLY HERE!”
As soon as they were sure Mrs. Holloway had quite recovered from her fainting spell, Ruth Fielding and Helen wished to get as far away from the fire as possible.