to six feet deep, and a man, or even some strong women swimmers, might have gotten along safely, but frail ones, and the children, could not.
"We'll have plenty of chance to help!" cried Blake, as they came nearer the scene.
Their approach was welcomed with cheers by those in peril.
"Hurray for the motor boat!" yelled one enthusiastic lad—enthusiastic even in peril. His house was three or four dwellings removed from those already burning.
"We'll take you off!" shouted Joe.
"That's the way!" cried one of the men in the small boats. "Just run 'em over to the high ground, and come back for more. We will have to put up tents to house 'em, I guess."
The Clytie was steered close to a burning house, and the anxious eyes of those aboard her sought for signs of life. There were no persons at the windows, however, and they were about to pass on to the next, the roof of which was just beginning to blaze, from the sparks falling on it, when Joe cried:
"There's someone!"
"A little girl!" added Blake, as he saw the figure of a child at an upper window.
"Jump!" called Mr. Ringold, while he re-
