Rob, seeing that all danger of the fire communicating to the Tramp was now past, slowly started toward the other boat. His intention was to rescue the two elderly men who were in the water. To tell the truth, Rob was very much afraid the passenger may have been seriously burned, and that in his panic he might release his frenzied grip on the gunwale of the boat.
It turned out otherwise, however, for Scotch grit held good, and Rob soon had the satisfaction of helping both men aboard the Tramp.
They had received a number of burns, and presented rather a peculiar appearance, since their eyebrows and beards had been badly singed.
“Fire’s all out, Rob!” announced Andy, at this juncture.
“Then fix it so that we can tow the Sea Gull behind us,” the other told him, “and we’ll change our course for the Collins Point yonder.”
“It is verra kind of ye to go to all that trouble,” remarked the elderly man, looking the young skipper of the rescuing boat over from head to toe, “and I wull not be the one to forget the favor, I assure you, my fine laddie.”
“I hope you are not seriously burned, sir?” remarked Rob, who saw that there were signs of the other’s clothes having been afire before he tumbled overboard, possibly urged to this last resort through the energetic efforts of old Captain Jerry Martin.
“I sincerely hope not myself,” replied the other, as he felt of his body, and then put up a hand to his blackened face. “I believe I’ve been well singed, and that until I grow a new crop of eyebrows I will look like a scorched rat; which is verra unfortunate, since I am on a most important errand over in your country. But, indeed, I should be ashamed to complain, for it might have been a deal worse.”
“And how about you, Captain Jerry?” asked Rob, turning to the subdued looking old skipper of the disabled motorboat, who had once been an oysterman, though of late years rheumatism had compelled him to seek another less strenuous means for making a living on the famous bay.
“Nawthin’ to count much, Rob,” grunted Captain Jerry, “but I’m afraid I’ll jest hev to git a new engine aboard the Sea Gull arter this accident. I knowed she leaked a mite in the connectin’ feed pipe, but I never thought anybody would throw a lighted match down thar! I’m glad to be alive still; and I hopes as how the duckin’ ain’t agoin’ to fotch on my rheumatiz agin.”