Mr. Lavine tried to tear up more of the grating under foot so as to make something that would float and upon which they might bear themselves up in the water. But the boards were too thin.

Then he tried to unship the rudder (the singed boatman was no use at all in this emergency) and so make use of that as a float. But the bolts were rusted and the boat had begun to swing around so that the fire blew right into the stern.

They both had to leap overboard.

It was a serious situation indeed. By Mr. Lavine's advice they paddled toward the bow, one on either side of the boat, for the flames were rushing aft.

The bow was a mere sh.e.l.l, however. The flames had already almost consumed it, and soon the fire fairly ate through the bows at the water level. The water rushed in and so sank the boat by the head.

Not that the boat went straight down. The stern rose in the water and the two men, in their desperate strait, gazed at the flames above their heads.

Had it been night the fire would have been like a great torch in the middle of the lake--and it would have brought help from all directions.

As it was, the black smoke first thrown off, and then the steam, attracted more than the girls of Green Knoll Camp to the scene.

At the landing Mr. Jarley was splicing some heavy rope which he expected to use the next day when the sunken _Bright Eyes_ would be actually raised. Polly saw the smoke first from the cottage and ran out to tell him.

"One of those motor boats is afire, Father!" she cried. Instantly the boatman set about going to the rescue. It was a fair day, but there was a good breeze blowing. Jarley took the _Coquette_.

He had no idea to whom he was playing the friend in need when he sailed the catboat down upon the scene of the disaster. It was a chance to help two fellow beings and the boatman cared not who they were.

Of course the sailing craft beat out the two frantically paddling girls from Green Knoll Camp. Yet it was still a long way from the spot when the last of the burning boat seemed to sink completely and the flames were snuffed out by the waters of the lake.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE SUNKEN TREASURE

Wyn and Frank were in despair when they saw the last of the flames wink out and the balloon of smoke sail away upon the breeze. They were too far away to be able to see the men struggling in the water--if they were still there.

"Oh! suppose Mr. Jarley doesn't reach them in time?" cried the captain of the girls' club.

"He must! he must!" groaned Frank, beating the water as hard as she could with her paddle.

"You'll have your canoe over!" exclaimed Wyn. "Look out, Frank!"

"I don't care! I don't care!" repeated the good-hearted Frances. "Oh, dear me! Suppose Mr. Lavine should be drowned? What would Bessie do? And they so much to each other!"

The girls saw the catboat round to suddenly, and Mr. Jarley drop the sail. The _Coquette_ seemed to drive straight across the spot where the burned motor boat had gone down.

They saw the boatman bend over the rail once--and then again. Each time he lifted in--or helped lift in--some object; but whether it was the men he picked up, or some of the floating wreckage, the girls could not see.

They drove their canoes on, however, and Mr. Jarley saw them when he brought the catboat about. So he sailed down to pick them up likewise.

"Did you get them? Did you get them?" shouted Wyn, resting on her paddle.

Frankie was crying--and she was not a "weepy" girl as a general thing.

But the peril seemed so terrible that she could not control herself for the moment.

Mr. Jarley--whose figure was all the girls could see in the catboat--leaned over and waved his hand to the girls. Was it meant to be rea.s.suring? They did not know until the _Coquette_ tacked so as to run down very close to them.

"Is that his girl with you, Miss Mallory?" demanded Polly's father.

"No. She did not come. She doesn't know," cried Wyn. "Oh, Mr. Jarley! is he all right?"

At that Mr. Lavine's head and shoulders appeared above the rail.

"We're alive, girls," he called, hoa.r.s.ely. "This brave fellow caught us just in time. Where's Bess?"

"She doesn't even know it was you in the burning boat," cried Wyn. "But Frank and I started out for you."

"You'd been awfully wet before ever we could have reached you, though, Mr. Lavine," choked Frank, quickly turning from tears to laughter, as was her nature.

Mr. Jarley had dropped the sail again, and beckoned the girls to approach.

"Come aboard," he said, gravely, "and I'll tow your canoes behind us.

Shall I take this gentleman to your camp, Miss Mallory?"

But Wyn was thinking to good purpose. She saw that Mr. Jarley, like his daughter, wished to have nothing to do with the Lavines. She knew that now Mr. Lavine would be doubly grateful to the boatman and that the time was ripe for the old friends to come to a better understanding.

"Why, Mr. Jarley," she said, "we haven't a thing at the camp he can put on--or the other man. No, sir. I don't know what we should do with them there."

Jarley's face flushed and he glanced back at the Forge. But it was near sunset already, and the Forge was much farther away than his own landing. The case was obvious.

"Well," he said, "I can take them home. Polly will find something for them to put on while their clothing is being dried. Yes! that may be best."

"And you take us girls right along with you and we'll paddle home from the landing," declared Wyn.

Wyn wanted to see Polly. After all, she believed, it lay with the boatman's daughter to make friends between the Jarleys and the Lavines.

The captain of the Go-Ahead Club felt as though her long and exciting vacation under canvas would come to a very happy conclusion if she could see the two men who had once been such close friends, reunited.

Wyn was the first one ash.o.r.e when the bow of the catboat touched the landing. Polly came running from the cottage, for she had spied their approach.

"Oh, Wynnie!" she cried, "what was it? Did father get them safely?"

"He saved them both--the most wonderful thing, Polly Jolly!" cried Wyn.

"Not so wonderful," corrected Polly, with pride. "My father has saved the lives of people from the lake before."

"But it _is_ wonderful," quoth Wyn, "because one of the men saved is Bessie's father."

"Mr. Lavine!" gasped Polly.

"Yes. Now he owes his life to your father, just as Bess owes hers to you."

"Don't talk so, Wyn," begged Polly. "It's nothing."