Frank and Andy ran as they had never run before. Out on the long pier they speeded, their eyes turned toward their boat which they could now hardly see on account of the haze of smoke.

“How do you think it happened?” panted Andy.

“Don’t know. We’ve got to get the fire out first, and think afterward. Come on, leg it faster!”

Once more they heard the cries of fire.

“That’s Bob Trent!” called Frank. “There he goes out in his boat! We’ll have to get some sort of a pump.”

“That’s—right!” gasped Andy.

The brothers were now at the gangway leading down to the float. Several men and boys who had been fishing off the end of the pier were gathered there, and it was they who had been shouting.

“Guess your boat’s a goner,” observed Captain Trent. “Bob has gone out to her.”

There was now more smoke than fire aboard the Gull, but it seemed to the boys only a matter of a few seconds when the flames would again break out.

“Is there a pump? Has anyone a pump?” begged Frank.

“Here’s a small one they use to get the bilge water out of their motor boats,” said the dock master, for the pier was a station for a yacht club, and the dock-keeper lived in a small house on the pier. “It doesn’t throw much of a stream, though.”

“Better use pails,” cried Captain Trent. “Here are a couple I use for clams. Take ’em along. The fire started sudden-like, when we were all standing here talking about the whale.”

Andy and Frank did not stay to hear more. Quickly they shoved off in their skiff and were soon approaching the Gull, at the side of which Bob Trent now was.

“It’s a lot of hay smoldering!” he shouted. “Maybe I can get it overboard with my boathook. Come on, fellows.”

“Row! Row!” cried Frank, for Andy had the only available pair of oars.

“I am rowing as hard as I can. Hay on fire! We had no hay on our boat. Someone must have put it there and tried to burn it!”

“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 boathook 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.”

But when the boys, after making sure that no sparks of fire remained, had gone back to the float, the dock master could give them no information. He had not noticed any suspicious characters about, but it was admitted that under cover of darkness, before the moon had risen, someone might have rowed silently to the side of the Gull and started the fire smoldering in the bale of hay.

............