By this time the large room where the boys stood was well filled with smoke, and Jimmie opened every avenue by which it might travel to the main hatch in the conning tower. In a few moments the interior of the submarine was comparatively free from smoke.
Jimmie took a pail of water from the tap and tossed it on the creeping flame in the little room. It served its purpose and the danger was over. Frank, still holding Moore by the arm, pointed to a chair. The young fellow seemed to have no notion of taking the seat, however, for he made a dash for the hatch, which was wide open.
In order to gain the staircase it was necessary for him to pass the place where Jimmie stood. As he came up to the boy he struck out with all his force and continued his flight—for a second.
When the boy saw him getting by, he dropped to the floor and seized him by the ankles, with the result that both were rolling about in the rich rug in no time.
"Go to it!" shouted Jimmie, as Moore tried to break away from him.
"Catch him, Frank!" he continued, as the stronger man pulled away.
It was quite a neat little battle, but in the end numbers won, and
Moore was ornamented with the irons once more.
"Why didn't you say the boat was on fire?" asked Frank. "You might have smothered in there."
"Wish I had!" gritted Moore.
"Go back and do it over again," Jimmie suggested. "You can have all the time you want!"
"Why didn't you let us know at first?" insisted Frank.