“There’s time enough yet not to jump, though maybe it would be safer,” said Harry. “They can all swim I guess.”
Swimming was an accomplishment insisted on at West Point, as was dancing, and it was not to be doubted that the cadets were adepts at it. As for Clarence, Tom knew the youth was quite at home in the water.
So aside from the chance that some of them might be taken with a cramp, or weighted down with water-soaked clothing, there was really no particular danger in jumping overboard.
There was one chance, though, that in leaping out suddenly they might capsize the motor boat, and if water entered the cockpit, it would spread the burning gasoline. That is the risk of bringing water in contact with a gasoline fire. It must never be used; sand or some proper chemical being called for in that emergency.
“Give way—a little more!” Tom called. He was not at all selfish in this. Had he been at the oars, and one of his companions at the tiller lines, he would have pulled with all his strength. The proper directing of the craft and the urging of it forward are equally important.
“Way she is!” panted Sam.
“Watch yourselves now,” Tom cautioned them, as they neared the burning craft. “I’m going to put us around so the smoke will blow away from us. We’ll take ’em all in our boat if they can’t put out the fire.”
“I guess we can hold ’em,” said Chad. “We’ll probably have to take ’em anyhow, for even if they douse the blaze the boat will be stalled.”
“Steady now!” called Tom. He sent the rowboat close to the bow of the motor craft, in such a position that the smoke would be blown away from the rescuing party.
“What’s the trouble?” called Tom, as some of the other cadets put out their hands to grasp the gunwhale of the rowboat.