"Captain," said he, mildly, "the galley is full of water, and there is no necessity—"
"Shut up!" was the polite rejoinder. "Do you suppose that I am going to leave so dangerous a thing as fire to the management of a lot of little boys? Go down there, Peters."
"Mr. Jackson, you will allow no one to interfere with you," said Harry.
"Very good, sir," replied the lieutenant, who was in excellent fighting humor, like all the rest of the yacht's company. "I'll look for him."
Peters ran down the ladder to execute the orders of his captain. The first man he encountered was the boatswain's mate, who stood in front of the galley holding the nozzle through a hole in the door, and directing the stream of water upon the fire inside.
"Come, now, get out o' this!" roared Peters, trying to push the young tar away from the door.
"Who are you? Get out o' this yourself," replied the boatswain's mate.
Peters, seeing that the boy was not disposed to be driven away from his work, proceeded to carry out his orders to the very letter. His first move was to fasten with both hands into the collar of the mate's jacket and send him sprawling on the deck; his second, to throw open the door that led into the galley. As the apartment had been flooded with water, and the fire nearly drowned out, this did not endanger the little vessel as it would have done a few minutes before, but the mate was none the less angry.
"Well, douse my to'-gallant top-lights," he growled, "Here's a go."
"Wheeler," shouted the second lieutenant, from the deck, "close that door at once."