Seeing a couple of buckets where one of the others had dropped them upon finding the fire getting too hot for him, Frank stooped over them. Rapidly he gave his chums directions how to keep these in constant play. They were to do the dipping into the river, handing the filled buckets up to him; when he would dash the water on the fire in a certain spot, until he had overwhelmed its hold there; and be in a condition to move on a little further. They worked like beavers. Indeed, once aroused to the work, and determined to win out, Bluff could not have done better service had it been the _Pot Luck_ that was in danger of being wiped out. Again and again did those buckets come into Frank’s hands, and the contents sprayed over the spluttering fire. It had met with a new enemy now, and one against which its most desperate efforts seemed to avail little. System had been brought into the game, a concentration of energies upon one spot. Ossie and his comrades had doubtless thrown plenty of water in the time they were laboring; but it had been so widely scattered that its strength was lost. Pretty soon Frank found that someone was working side by side with him, taking full buckets from other hands, and following his example in casting the water in a particular spot. It gave him something like a thrill when he realized that this was no other than Ossie Fredericks himself. For the time being the rivals of the Mississippi were working side by side, as though the very best of friends, and animated by a single purpose, which was the saving of the fine power houseboat from destruction. After that the fire was quickly gotten under control, though Frank would not stop in his labor until the very last spark seemed to have been smothered. As the boat had been fastened with the bow up-stream, all the damage was away from the motor, and would not amount to so serious a thing after all. A hundred dollars might cover the bill for repairs; and doubtless Ossie and his friends could continue their cruise on the morrow, making out the best way possible, with a partly burned cabin, until they pulled up in the Crescent City a short time later. “All out, Frank?” asked the perspiring Bluff. “Yes, every spark, so far as I can see,” was the reply; “and I guess we’d better be heading back to our own boat as fast as we can, because I felt a drop of rain just then, and we’re going to get a deluge pretty quick now.” “Hold on, please, Frank!” It was Ossie himself who said this. He was coming toward them, his friends following at his heels. Frank had heard them arguing over something, and he imagined that several of the boys were holding back in connection with something that Ossie himself seemed determined to do.