“Down in front!” Jerry cried, for Ned and Bob were standing in the bow as unconcernedly as though they were on a pleasure jaunt, whereas, in another moment, the boat would ram the locked doors.
The fire had now eaten a large hole in the side of the boathouse, so that the interior was well lighted. The boys could hear the crackle of flames, and the shouts of men mingled with the puffing of the steamers. The whistle of boats approaching to do battle with the flames from the river front, was also heard.
“Low bridge!” cried Jerry, as the bow of the Scud rammed the double doors. There was a crash, and a splintering of wood, but the portals held, and did not swing open. The shock sent the boat back in the water, and the boys were almost thrown off their feet.
“Got to try again!” Jerry cried. He had put the propeller out of gear as soon as the boat hit, and now he reversed the screw. The Scud drew back to the limit of the water in the boathouse.
Once more she came rushing at the double doors. It must be now or never, for by this time the interior of the structure was beginning to blaze.
“Crash!” went the bow, aimed full at the dividing line between the doors. And this time, weakened as they were by the previous assault, they gave way. [The Scud shot out into the stream.]
[THE SCUD SHOT OUT INTO THE STREAM.]
“Hurray!” cried Bob. “We’ve saved her!”