Dave Porter At Bear Camp: or, The Wild Man of Mirror Lake. Stratemeyer Edward
snorted the mate of the Eaglet. "How do you make that out, with all that fire?"
"It wasn't fire – that is, not much of it," was the answer. "It was mostly smoke. We have a moving picture company on board, and they had a lot of fireworks, some of 'em tied up in old sail cloth. The fireworks started to go off – why I don't know – and they set fire to the cloth, and when we wet that down it made an awful smoke. But all the stuff was in a zinc-lined compartment, so there wasn't much real danger. The worst was when those rockets went off and shot up right out of the hatchway."
"And are you sure the fire is entirely out?" asked the mate of Mr. Lawrence's vessel.
"Just about. We'll have the men make a search, so that there won't be any further danger."
After a little more conversation the three rowboats were brought close to the steam yacht, from the side of which a ladder had been lowered.
"O dear! Are we to go back to that boat?" queried the girl Dave had saved from drowning.
She was a miss of perhaps eighteen years, tall and slender, with brown hair and big brown eyes. She appealed to our hero as she spoke.
"I don't see what else there is to do," he answered, "unless you want to be taken to our steamer."
"What place is your steamer bound for?"
"We hope to make Portland some time this afternoon."
"Oh indeed! Then I think I would rather go aboard that steamer than back on the yacht," answered the young lady. "What do you think, Aunt Bess?" she went on, appealing to the woman in the rowboat, who by this time had recovered from her plunge into the sea.
"I think I would like to get ashore as soon as possible, Della," returned the aunt. "I just hate the water, anyway, and I don't think I'll take another sea trip in a hurry."
"Oh, say, Miss Ford, you might as well go back on the steam yacht. I guess the danger is all over," put in the fourth person who had been picked up – a young man about Dave's age. "Didn't you hear the captain say that the fire was out?"
"Yes, I know," answered Della Ford. "But I'm so afraid, Mr. Porton," and the girl looked rather helplessly at those around her.
"Where is that steam yacht bound for?" questioned Phil.
"We were going somewhere outside of Cape Cod," answered the stout man who had been rescued. "But I guess Mr. Appleby will have to give the trip up for the present. He's the manager of our company, you know," he added, by way of explanation.
"What sort of a company is that – a theatrical company?" asked Shadow.
"Oh, no. This is a moving-picture company – one belonging to the Appleby Film Corporation."
"Oh, then you are all moving-picture actors!" cried Ben, with interest.
"Yes," answered the young man. "But we didn't come out to get into any such scene as this," he added, with a short laugh.
By this time a number of those in the rowboats had been assisted to the deck of the steam yacht, and those above were calling down to those in the rowboat manned by Dave and his chums.
"Say, young men, I'm very much obliged to you for what you did for me," cried the stout man, heartily, as he prepared to ascend the ladder. "I guess I was foolish to jump overboard when there was no great danger."
"It's too bad Case didn't get a picture of that scene," said the young man named Porton. "It would have been a dandy to work into one of the sea dramas."
"I guess that's right," returned Dave, with a grim smile.
"Much obliged to all of you," went on Ward Porton. "If there are any charges, send the bill to Mr. Thomas Appleby, the manager. He ought to reward you handsomely for saving a part of his company." And with these words he followed the stout man to the deck of the steam yacht.
"Aren't you folks coming up?" came a call from the manager of the moving-picture company, as he leaned over the rail.
"Oh, Mr. Appleby, I don't want to stay out here!" cried Della Ford, "and neither does my Aunt Bess! The young men here say their boat is going to Portland. Maybe we had better go there and take the train to Boston."
"Oh, there is no use in doing that, Miss Ford," answered the manager. "The fire is out, and it is perfectly safe on board now. You had better come up here. I will help you," and he reached down with his hand.
"I don't suppose it will be just the right thing to do, to desert the company," said Mrs. Ford, the girl's aunt. "We still have to act in several scenes on the ship, you must remember."
"Very well, Aunty, just as you say," returned the girl. "But oh! I must thank this young man for what he did for me!" she went on. And at the danger of causing the rowboat to tip, she bent over and caught Dave's hand in both of her own. "Won't you please tell me your name?"
"It's Dave Porter," was the answer. "Come, let me help you up the ladder."
"My name is Della Ford, and I belong in Boston. You are a very brave young man, and I shall never forget you. Some time when you are in Boston you must come to see me."
"Thank you, Miss Ford, perhaps I will," answered Dave. And after a word or two more, he assisted the young lady up the ladder. Then the boys helped Mrs. Ford, who was still so weak that she could hardly stand.
The first mate of the Eaglet was on the deck of the steam yacht, talking to the captain. In the meantime several sailors were at work putting out the last sparks of the fire. Quite a quantity of fireworks had gone off, and the burnt portions were thrown overboard. The moving-picture manager explained that the fireworks had been brought along to be used in one of the film dramas.
"Might as well get back to the steamer," suggested Roger, after several minutes had passed, during which time the boys had been calling to those on the deck of the steam yacht. "We can't do anything more here."
"All right," returned Phil, and gave orders to pull away.
"Good-bye, Mr. Porter!" called out Della Ford, waving her hand. "Thank you ever so much for what you did. And don't forget to call and see me when you come to Boston."
"Good-bye," returned Dave; and a moment later the rowboat shot out of hearing and was headed toward the Eaglet.
CHAPTER IV
BACK TO CRUMVILLE
"I think those on board that steam yacht can congratulate themselves because the fire was no worse," remarked Roger, when the boys had returned to the Eaglet.
"Yes indeed," answered Dave. "Some fires at sea are terrible things, and cause a great loss of life."
"Seems to me Dave was the hero of the occasion!" burst out Ben. "He did the really-and-truly rescue act."
"Come now, don't start anything like that!" interrupted Dave, hastily. "I only did what any of you might have done."
"I know one thing," remarked Phil, closing one eye suggestively. "Dave made some hit with the young lady he pulled out of the water."
"That's right!" agreed Shadow. "Why, do you know I thought Miss Ford was going to throw her arms right around his neck."
"Oh, cut it! cut it!" said Dave, growing red in the face. "Shadow, your imagination will be the death of you."
"Oh, I don't know," replied the former story-teller of Oak Hall, coolly. "She certainly was smitten, Dave."
"Not at all. She was grateful, that's all."
"Just the same, Dave, if we get to Boston you'll have to call on her," remarked Roger, with a grin.
"We can all call if you feel that way about it," answered our hero. "I rather think some of you were smitten pretty badly." And at this sally there was a general laugh.
It was some time before the last of the rowboats returned to the steamer. The first mate brought a report to Captain Bradley and Mr. Lawrence, to which the boys listened with interest. The mate said that it was thought on board the steam yacht that the fire had started from a cigarette thrown away by one of the moving-picture actors, a young man named Ward Porton, but that this could