Meanwhile our hero, accompanied by the officer, was groping his way
through the thick smoke in the compartment. The officer had switched
on the electric lights, and they shone with a yellow haze through
the clouds of choking vapor.

"Can you see it?" asked the officer anxiously.

"I had it put where I could easily get at it," answered Tom with a
cough, for some of the smoke had got down his throat. "I had an idea
I might need it in a hurry. Here it is!" and he pointed to a large
box, marked with his initials in red paint. "Give me a hand and
we'll get it out."

"Yes, and send it on deck. See, there's the fire!" and the officer
pointed to where a glow could be seen amid some bales of cotton. "It
will be slow burning, that's one good thing, and by turning steam
into this compartment we can soon put it out."

"It's pretty close to my box," commented Tom, "but there isn't as
much danger as I thought."

It did not take him and the officer long to move the box away from
its proximity to the fire, for the case was not heavy, though it was
of good size, and then the officer having called up an order to some
of his fellow seamen on deck, a rope was let down, and the box
hoisted up.

"Whew! That was a narrow escape!" exclaimed Tom as he saw his case
go up on deck. "I suppose I shouldn't have had that stored here. But
there were so many things to think of that I forgot."