“He’s a coward, besides being a cad,” involuntarily flashed through Frank’s mind. Then he made the launch swerve, and shouted to the occupants of the motor boat:
Frank, with his experience of the past, calculated so nicely that the launch came alongside the burning motor boat at precisely the right angle to allow the man in charge of the latter craft to grapple with a boat-hook.
“Quick, Mrs. Carrington,” he spoke to the older lady, “get aboard the launch as fast as you can.”
The woman’s girl companion helped her get to her feet, but she pitched about so that but for a clever movement on the part of Frank she would have gone into the water.
“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” she screamed, but with the aid of the younger woman Frank managed to get her into the launch, where she dropped in a heap and went into hysterics. Her companion got aboard more quietly.
“You are just in time,” gasped the man in charge of the motor boat. “Don’t risk the flames, but pull away.”
“Yes, there is nothing to be done in the way of putting out the fire,” said Frank.
The man he spoke to was both worried and in pain. His face and hands were blistered from his efforts to shield his passengers from the fire. Just then a howl rang out. It proceeded from the fellow thirty feet away, bobbing up and down on the empty box. This brought the older woman to her senses.
“It is Peter!” she screamed. “Oh, save Peter!”