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In the common fear of the new danger the contending factions drew apart, friend and foe uniting in the universal effort to gain a place of safety. The wind caught the blaze and fanned it upward in a solid sheet of flame which blistered the varnish of the Richard's stern-deck. "Get down," Gregory shouted above the roar of the speed-boat's exhaust.
But his loss would be a serious one. Without the speed-boat, Gregory would be greatly handicapped. He set his jaw grimly in the darkness. He could not afford to tie up the Richard. He would run her himself. Directing Hawkins to pull the anchor, he slid into Bronson's seat and focused the rays of his flash-light on the speed-boat's starting mechanism. "Are you going to try to run her?"
The rising wind at his back was hot with the fevered breath of the burning tow. What did it matter if the heat was scorching his neck? Only a few boats remained ahead. Then he would be in the clear. If the tanks of the Florence exploded he must crawl to the stern and cut the tow-line. The crested waves began to slap angrily at the speed-boat's hull. Then the Richard's motor began to miss.
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