It was the fourth day after the norther. While waiting for dinner to be brought on deck (the meals had been served under the awnings since the storm, for the cabin was too hot to permit even of their eating there), Teddy lay near the after starboard boat lazily wondering why that thin curl of blue smoke should come from the planking directly over the kitchen, instead of through the pipe as it always had before.
Owing to the fact that there was no unusual disturbance he never fancied for a moment anything could be wrong, and remained gazing at it in silence so long that Neal asked curiously:
"What do you see that is so very interesting?"
"I was wondering what had happened to the galley pipe."
"How do you know that it isn't all right?"
"I suppose it is; but it looks queer to see that smoke coming up as if from the deck."
Neal looked in the direction indicated by Teddy's outstretched finger, and seeing the blue curl, which had now grown considerably thicker, sprang to his feet very quickly.
Without speaking to his friend he ran forward, Teddy still ignorant there was any danger, and in the shortest possible space of time Mr. Walters came from the wheel-house in response to Neal's emphatic request.
To Teddy it seemed as if but an instant elapsed before the deck was a scene of confusion, and as all hands were called for duty he heard one of the sailors cry in a tone of alarm:
"Tumble up, boys, the yacht is on fire!"