“We shan’t be burned,” he added. “Anyhow, we have to take that risk. We can’t leave those two men there. Mr. Carter can swim, I know. But Chick is done for, unless somebody helps him.” “Hello! Here’s luck!” suddenly exclaimed Patsy. “Gee! This is my good night!” The skiff in which he and Nick Carter had come to the ice house was floating about near him. A few quick pulls on the oars, and he was able to reach the empty boat. “Here is my gun,” he said simply, to Marcos, as he handed him his revolver. “If Larry Dugan or either of the others gets at all gay, just put a lead pill into his coco. All you have to do is to get the end of the barrel against the patient’s ear. Then pull this little dingus underneath, and it will cure the nervousness right away.” Marcos laughed at Patsy’s prescription for the prisoners as he took the revolver. “You hear what the doctor says, gentlemen!” he remarked, bringing the muzzle of the pistol to bear on Larry Dugan’s sinister countenance. “Don’t jump about too much, or I might pull the--er--dingus by accident.” Patsy was up to the window where Nick Carter supported Chick in a very few seconds. “Gee, chief! This joint looks as if it was going to fold in on itself any minute. Listen to the fire spitting. And talk about a smell! They must have forgot to clean off the kindling wood before they started this one. In with him! All right, Chick! Don’t worry! It’s your Uncle Patsy has you now! Say! This is a hot one, all right!” Chatting in this way to keep up his own spirits, as well as to make Chick feel safe in case he should be coming to his senses, Patsy Garvan helped Nick Carter lift Chick into the boat. “Pull, Patsy! Pull for your life!” shouted Nick, as Patsy got the pair of oars well in hand. “Sure I’ll pull!” was the hearty response. “I can tumble without a house falling on me!” Nick Carter could not aid his willing assistant at that instant. There was only one pair of oars in the skiff, and Patsy had them. “Hello! Those walls are going to fall out!” Instinctively, Nick tried to shield Chick, lying in the bottom of the boat, by bending over him, as part of the blazing ruins broke down again. A flying board, all blue flames and scattering sparks, came charging full tilt at the boat. It struck Nick Carter’s arm, and fell, seething, into the water. If it had come straight in its original course, it must have plunged into the unprotected, upturned face of Chick. “That was a close call,” observed Patsy, as he ran the skiff up against the other one, where Marcos was keeping close watch on the prisoners. “What shall I do now?” “Get in and row the gang to shore. I’ll take Chick in this skiff. He is beginning to come around,” returned Nick. “Sure!” almost screamed Patsy, in an excess of delight. “Hello, Patsy!” said Chick feebly.