In an incredibly short space of time Broncho and the rover reappeared with the sail on their shoulders.
Meanwhile, Tari and Jim had succeeded in hauling the senseless form of Lobu out of the forepeak, and were hard at work throwing water on to the smother of smoke.
It was a slow process, however, as the water had to be drawn over the side, there being no pump on board.
Rapidly the sail was dipped overboard and spread out.
"Pass it down to me, boys," called Jack; and before any one could divine his intention, he had descended the ladder into the midst of the smoke.
With hurried hands the sail was lowered down after him, and for a few minutes it looked as if the fire was going to be smothered.
With redoubled vigour they turned to the buckets, and, in a constant stream, the water was sent sousing down.
Suddenly Jack's head appeared, soaking wet and blackened with smoke, at the top of the ladder.
"An axe!" he gasped out. "The bulkhead's caught!"