Old Jacob had been left on deck alone less than half an hour, when a howl from Dash aroused him. The dog came toward him and repeated the howl, in the most dismal fashion imaginable.
"What is it, old fellow?" questioned the Yankee. "There is no moon to bay at. Are ye gittin' sick to keep Danny company?"
At this the dog set up a worse howl than ever, and then pointed his long nose in the direction of the galley. Old Jacob looked in the direction and saw a thin curl of smoke issuing through one of the windows.
"Jee-rusalem!" ejaculated the Yankee. In a twinkle he had fastened the wheel and was running to the galley with all speed. As he ran, Dash gave a loud bark, glad that he had been understood. One glance into the galley was enough for Jacob Ropes.
"Fire! fire!" he bawled, with all the strength of his powerful lungs. "Tumble on deck, boys; the Dashaway is on fire!"
CHAPTER IX.
FIGHTING THE FLAMES.
Old Jacob's loud cries soon aroused everybody. The first person to come up from below was Don, who looked as pale as a sheet.
"Is the yacht afire?" he gasped.
"The galley is," returned the old tar. "We've got to work lively if we want to save the Dashaway. Come; man the hose pump, while I get some buckets. And some of ye lower the sails. To run into this wind will only feed the flames."
By this time all the others were on deck, even Danny coming up, his head bound around with a towel.