"I guess so. But don't talk—save your breath for rowing."
A minute later Frank and Andy were beside Bob in his boat. Dense smoke was pouring from the Gull, and Frank, dipping up a pailful of water, dashed it into the cockpit. There was a hiss, showing that fire was present.
"Wait!" cried Bob. "I think I can pull the hay overboard now. It's a small bale."
He stood up and jabbed his boat-hook into something. The next moment a dark mass, in which red glowing embers could be seen, and which gave out a dense smoke, splashed into the water with a loud hissing noise.
"There's still some fire in the boat!" cried Andy, as he saw tiny tongues of flame.
"Yes, the woodwork is on fire, but a little water will douse that," cried Frank, as he caught up another pailful. With Bob using the second pail, and Andy the pump, the fire was soon put out.
"Not so much damaged," observed Frank, as the three boys went aboard, and examined the craft with a lantern. "But how in the world did it start—or, rather, who put the hay here and set fire to it?"
"That's the question," admitted Bob. "All I know is that I was standing talking to dad, when I smelled smoke, and saw it coming from your boat."
"Did you see anyone around it to-night?" Andy wanted to know.
"Not a soul. We'll ask the pier master."