“More than likely.”
“What’s the trouble?”
“They are yelling like Indians!” cried the center fielder. “Come on, something is wrong, sure!”
On the instant the game of baseball was forgotten, and like a drove of wild horses the college boys raced down to the edge of the river, which at this point was over a quarter of a mile wide but quite shallow. As they did this they heard the steam whistle of the Thistle sound out loud and long.
“That’s a call for assistance, that’s certain,” said Dick.
“Oh, I hope the girls are safe!” murmured his youngest brother.
“She’s on fire, that’s what’s the matter!” exclaimed Tom. “See the smoke coming from the cabin!”
“Fire! fire! fire!” was the cry taken up on all sides. “The steamer is on fire!”
“Why don’t they run to the dock?” asked one of the students.
“Can’t—it isn’t deep enough,” was the reply. “They are going to dredge out the channel this summer.”