Those on the boat looked with awe, and feelings of deep sorrow, on the unhappy scene. The fire seemed gaining headway, in spite of the rain, and, as they approached, a second house caught from the first, the black smoke rolling skyward.
“Put over there!” cried Mr. Ringold to C. C., who was steering. “Maybe we can help them—or rescue someone! Put over!”
CHAPTER XV
A HAPPY MEETING
Fanned by a strong wind, the flames gained headway rapidly, and soon both houses were wrapped in fire, while over them hung a black pall of smoke. The dwellings were close together, and it seemed likely that more would catch, as there was no possibility of using the fire engines, if so small a town possessed them.
For the streets of the village were three feet or more under water, and the curious sight was presented of houses surrounded by a flood being destroyed by fire.
“The stoves must have upset, or something like that, to cause the fire!” cried Blake, as the motor boat was steered toward the blazing dwellings.
“They’re beginning the work of rescue now,” called Mr. Ringold. “See, they’re coming in boats.”
A number of small craft, containing several men, who had evidently been engaged in either rescue or salvage work, in another part of the town, came rowing along the inundated streets toward the scene of the fire.
“Look!” shouted C. C. “Someone just jumped from one of the windows then! And there goes another!”
They all looked in time to see a body plunge downward into the water, and one of the boats swerved toward it. Those aboard the Clytie saw, a moment later, a woman pulled from the flood, and taken into the small boat.