Frank knew the danger he was in, but did not seem to understand that the boys on the boat were aware of his peril, for he swung his body out of the water and whirling, pointed to the crocodile. As he did so the monster speeded forward and snapped at his arm.
"Shoot! Shoot!" cried Jimmie.
But no shots were fired. When the great mouth of the monster opened something shot out from the boat and landed squarely between the extended jaws of the crocodile. There was a snap, a crunching sound, then the water was whipped into commotion by the writhing body of the monster.
A rope was thrown to Frank and he was soon on board, not much wetter than his chums, standing in the driving rain, and not at all injured by his adventure.
"Cripes!" Jimmie cried, as Frank stood panting by his side, "I thought he had you where the whale had Jonah."
"What was that you fed him?" asked Frank of Ned.
"Just a bottle of gasoline which lay here," was the reply.
"You couldn't make a throw like that again in a hundred years!" Frank said.
"If you're goin' to feed gasoline to the crocodiles," grinned Jimmie, "I'll notify the government."
"If the breed listens to what that fellow has to say of gasoline as an article of food," Ned laughed, "there won't be much demand for it."