"Well, the firemen may save it," said Mr. Bobbsey. "We will hope so, anyhow," he added.
They had not gone on much farther before Mr. Bobbsey and Bert could see that it was indeed their boathouse on fire. One side was all ablaze, and the flames were slowly, but surely, eating their way over the whole place. But two engines were now pumping streams of water on the fire, and they might put it out before too much damage was done.
Mr. Bobbsey rushed forward, and, as the policemen and firemen knew him, they let him get close to the boathouse.
"You stay here, Bert," said Mr. Bobbsey to his son.
"Where are you going?" Bert wanted to know.
"I'm going to see if we can save any of the boats."
There was a sailing craft, a number of rowboats, and a small gasoline launch in the boat-house. They had been stored away for the winter.
"Come on, men!" cried Mr. Bobbsey, as he saw some of his workmen in the crowd. "Help me save the boats!"
All rushed forward willingly, and, as there was part of the place where the flames had not yet reached, they could make their way into the house. They began lowering the boats into the icy water, while the firemen played the several lines of hose on the flames.
The third engine was now working, and so much water was pumped that even a larger fire could not have stood it for very long.