"If you want any help say the word. I've got a boat's crew here. If you've no objections, I'll just step down and take a squint at things. Perhaps a few suggestions from an old fellow who has had two vessels burned under him in mid-ocean wouldn't come amiss."
"O, no, sir," replied Harry, gratefully. "I shall be glad to listen to your advice. It won't do to let this fire get started in the harbor."
"It would ruin me," replied the captain. "That's my vessel over there, and she is all I have in the world. If I lose her, I shall be high and dry aground."
Harry did not wonder that the old sailor felt uneasy. He was so nervous himself that he could not stand still, and he became appalled when he thought of the possible consequences of Tom Newcombe's attempt to carry out his "splendid idea." He had placed a million dollars' worth of property in jeopardy, and all to satisfy an unreasonable grudge against his father, the students, and the principal of the academy. If the fire he had kindled in the galley of the Storm King should spread to the shipping in front of Mr. Newcombe's elevator, Tom might be revenged in a way he had not thought of. He had promised to raise a breeze in the village, that would lead the people there to believe that they had never known any thing about him, and he had succeeded beyond his most sanguine expectations.
The uneasiness was not confined to the crews of the vessels that were moored about the yacht—it began to spread through the town. Mr. Newcombe's night watchman, who had by this time been discovered and released, had found out that there was something unusual going on, and he was ringing the bell on the elevator, as if his life depended upon his arousing the village in the shortest possible space of time. Then the alarm bells, and the big bell at the academy joined in, the fire engines rattled through the streets, men began to run about the wharves, and in a few minutes all Newport was in commotion. Some thought the town was on fire; but the flames had thus far been confined to the galley of the Storm King, and, thanks to Harry and his crew, they were likely to remain there.
"What do you think of it, sir?" asked the first lieutenant, when the old sailor returned from the galley.
"O, it's all right. I couldn't see much on account of the smoke; but there's no danger now if you keep the draft shut away from it."
Before Harry could reply, another yawl dashed up alongside the yacht, and a second party of sailors clambered over the side, headed by a burly, red-whiskered man, who seemed to be in a terrible rage about something.
"It beats the world what little sense some people have," said he, hurrying up to the old captain, who was standing beside Harry. "The idea of giving a lot of little brats like these full charge of a vessel! I've had my eye on this craft ever since I've been in port. I've said a dozen times that she'd get us into trouble, sooner or later, and now my words are coming true. The whole harbor will be in a blaze in five minutes. Peters," he added, turning to one of his men, "kick those young sea-monkeys out of the way, and put out that fire."
Harry overheard the order, and so did Lieutenant Jackson, who at that moment came up to report that the fire was being rapidly subdued. The former was willing to take advice and to receive assistance, but he was not the one to submit to any domineering, and he regarded the order as a most unwarrantable interference, and, if the red-whiskered sea captain had been of his own age, it is probable that he would have heard something. But the first lieutenant, angry as he was, did not forget the respect due to those older than himself.