The source of the fire was in the engine-room, which communicated with the fo'c'sle. Although the clear flame considerably reduced the volume of smoke, the grave danger became apparent. Within a few feet of the fire was the main fuel-tank, the petrol-tank being on the other side of the motor-room.
"Close the engine-room skylight," exclaimed Mr. Armitage, again girding on the life-line. "I'll get the pyrene going."
He went below. The heat was now oppressive, but the air considerably purer. Fortunately he knew exactly where the fire-extinguishers were stowed. Working rapidly, yet deliberately, he dashed a quantity of pyrene on the seat of the conflagration, and with marvellous swiftness the fire died down.
Battling his way through the now pungent fumes, for the pyrene had destroyed the oxygen in the confined space, the Scoutmaster gained the deck exhausted but triumphant.
"Batten everything down, Jackson," he said breathlessly. "We've done the trick this time."
Meanwhile the six Sea Scouts, stretched out upon the dewy deck, were recovering from the effects of their partial asphyxiation under the somewhat rough but efficacious treatment by the crew of the drifter; and by the time the hatchways and skylights were covered with wet canvas to complete the stifling of the fire, Stratton and his companions were able to walk unaided to the after-cabin.
In the pale dawn Mr. Jackson contemplated Bruin. The pup was drinking water copiously. It seemed impossible that his small body could accommodate such a quantity of fluid.
"Some one called Bruin a Jonah," he remarked. "I fancy the dog has vindicated himself this time."