flames burst from several places on the loaded boat.
The lightning had indeed set fire to the cotton, which was floating down the river. It had probably broken away from the place where it had been moored, or from the tug that was towing it. Rapidly the flames gained headway, and, as there came a sudden cessation to the rain, which might have extinguished them, the tongues of fire leaped higher and higher.
"I hope we will be able to keep well away from her," murmured Mr. Ringold, and for a time it seemed as though they might, for the burning barge was well in advance of our friends.
But it was a vain hope. A little later the barge suddenly grounded on some obstruction, and remained stationary, while the motor boat was borne down directly on it.
"Steer to one side!" yelled Blake.
"I'm trying to!" echoed the manager, but it was easily seen that he was not going to be able to do this in time. A moment later the Clytie poked her bow against the barge, with great force.
Fortunately, however, a bale of cotton, hanging partly overboard, took the brunt of the blow, so no damage was done.
