The young master of Hyson Hall

by Frank R. Stockton

The Thomas Wistar, now held by her rudder, was being gradually turned by the wind, so that her bow was directed towards the Hyson Hall side of the river. The breeze was still on one side of her, but more astern than it had been, and it was evident that if the rudder could be held in its present position she would, before long, be blown in shore; but whether or not Phil and Phœnix could remain aboard long enough for this to happen was a question both to them and to Chap, who kept an anxious watch on them from below. Even now, for aught any of them knew, the fire might be spreading beneath them.

“I do believe,” said Phil, “that this deck is beginning to feel hot under my feet.”

“I guess it’s because you’re so hot yourself,” said Phœnix. “We’d see smoke coming out of some of the cracks if the fire was getting under us.”

There was no doubt, however, that the fire was approaching the stern of the vessel. The wind was not blowing so hard as it had been, and whenever there was a partial lull in it the boys would feel great puffs of heat, and clouds of smoke would gather over them; then, when the breeze freshened again, the heat and the smoke would be blown away, and they could breathe freer. They could see people on shore, who were shouting to them, but the fire made such a roaring noise they could not hear what was said.

“Lash that tiller to the railings and come off!” shouted Chap, who kept his boat quite near them. “The fire will spread to the stern before you know it, and the whole thing will blaze up in a flash. Come off, I tell you, if you don’t want to be cooked alive.”

“I wish we could find a piece of rope,” said Phil, “and we’d tie this tiller fast, and get off.”

“I believe we chucked those bits overboard when we cut the tiller loose,” said Phœnix, “for I can’t see them; but they weren’t strong enough, anyway.”

“It will take a pretty stout rope to hold this tiller,” said Phil.

He was right, for every muscle of the boys was strained to keep the rudder in its position. If it had not been for the great strength of Phœnix, it is probable that they could not have done it.

The wind now seemed to have shifted, for a sudden cloud of smoke was blown right over the stern of the boat. In ten seconds more the boys would have let go the tiller and jumped overboard, but the smoke was blown away again, and they stood to their work.