The task was proceeding most satisfactorily when the Olivette suddenly began to roll in the swell of a distant steamer. Before the Sea Scouts could prevent it, the stove capsized, throwing the saucepan and its contents upon the floor. Instantly the petrol—fortunately only a few teaspoonfuls—burst into flames.
Flemming made a dash for the Pyrene extinguisher, but before he returned, Roche and the Patrol Leader had quenched the flames by smothering them with a blanket. But the worst was to come, for, when Peter picked up the still hot brass cylinder, the solder had melted and the float was irreparably damaged.
Without the float the motor couldn't function. There the Scouts were, almost in mid-Channel, in a boat that was now at the mercy of wind and tide.
"There's one blessing," remarked Roche. "We've got the fire out."
"At the expense of a jolly good blanket," added Flemming.
"Better a burnt blanket than a burnt boat," rejoined Roche. "What's to be done now?"
"Never say die," quoted Stratton. "Find a chunk of cork, someone. There's plenty on board. We'll make a cork float."
"No good without shellac," objected Roche. "It will go to pieces in the petrol."
"Let it, then," said Peter with a laugh. "The pieces can't come out of the old metal float. I'll pack it full of cork and tap over the ends. We'll have the old hooker making way in another twenty minutes."
The suggestion was quickly acted upon. By the aid of a light hammer Stratton succeeded in refixing the unsoldered end of the float, having previously filled it with cork. Although not so buoyant as an air-filled float, the substitute served its purpose, the only drawback being a rather heavy consumption of fuel; but directly the carburetter was replaced, the motor restarted without hesitation.