"I doubt if they'll do any shooting," answered Harold Bird.

"I can't believe that," said Dick, with a shake of his head. "That Sack Todd is a bad one, and Baxter can be very wicked at times. We certainly want to be on guard against any underhanded work."

The launch had been running somewhat across the river, but was now headed straight down the Mississippi.

"We don't seem to be gaining," said Fred, after a silence of several minutes. "It appears to be just as far ahead as when we first saw it."

"We are certainly not gaining much," answered the young Southerner. "But I think we are gaining a little."

Harold Bird was right, they were gaining probably one rod in twenty. Thus, in a little over half an hour, they saw that the launch was almost within hailing distance. The acetylene gas light was thrown ahead and to the right and left, and lit up the surface of the river for a considerable distance. Against the rays of the lamp they could make out four persons in the launch.

"They must be the four we are after," said Dick. "I wish they would turn into shore, at some town. Then we'd have an easier time of it, rounding them up."

"I have an idea!" cried Sam. "Why not follow them until they do land somewhere and go to sleep? We'll have a better chance to capture all of them than in a fight out here. Here, if we get into a row, somebody may fall overboard and be drowned."

"Yes, let us follow them until they stop somewhere," came from Songbird, who had no desire to fight out there on the bosom of the swiftly-flowing Mississippi.

This decided on, they did not attempt to catch up to the launch, but, getting near enough to keep the craft in plain view, held back just a trifle.

"Do you suppose they see us?" asked Fred.

"They may see the houseboat, but they don't know what craft it is, or who is on board," answered Dick.

Presently the launch stopped running and merely drifted with the current. Those in the houseboat saw the gas lamp turned toward the shore.

"I think they are making preparations to land," said Harold Bird.

A moment later the acetylene lamp was turned back and the sharp rays fell full upon the Dora and those on the forward deck.

"Hi! There is the houseboat!" cried Dan Baxter, who was following the rays of light with his eyes.

"That's so!" returned Gasper Pold. "They must be following us!"

"How did they do it so quickly?" questioned Solly Jackson.

"That's a puzzle, but it certainly is the houseboat, and there are three or four of the crowd on board," said Sack Todd.

Those on the launch were amazed to think they had been followed so quickly and for the moment knew not what to do. Then Sack Todd drew his pistol.

"Hi, there!" he yelled. "Keep your distance, if you know when you are well off!"

"They know us right enough," murmured Tom. "And they mean to fight!"

"Go ahead,—we can't afford to land around here!" said Gasper Pold, to Baxter, who had been running the motor of the launch. And soon the power was turned on and the launch started down the river faster than ever.

"They are running away from us!" ejaculated Dick. "Oh, what luck!"

"Stop!" yelled Sam. "Stop, or we'll fire at you!"

"That's the talk," said Harold Bird.

"If you do any firing, so will we!" came back from one of the persons on the Venus.

Then of a sudden the acetylene gas lamp was either turned off or its rays were hidden, for the launch was almost lost in the darkness of the night.

"They were trying to hide," said Fred. "And it looks as if they would succeed," he added, as the launch seemed to fade utterly from view.

"If we only had that gas lamp,—to keep them in view!" sighed Sam.

"Are you certain there is nothing of the kind on board?" questioned Songbird. "Didn't you buy some rockets when we stopped at—"

"Sure I did!" shouted Dick. "Just the thing—if they are still on board. And they may be—for I put them in a closet we don't often use."

Dick started on a hunt and soon put in an appearance with several rockets, such as are generally used on a ship as a signal of distress.

"They'll be good in more ways than one," said Tom. "They will keep those rascals in sight and also let folks know that we need help."

"Py golly! Ve vill haf a regular Fourth of Chuly, hey?" came from Hans.

A rocket was placed in position at the bow end of the houseboat and the eldest Rover touched it off. It sizzed for an instant and then shot forward over the water in the direction of the gasoline launch, making the scene light for the time being. It came down just over the Venus' bow.

"Hi! stop that, or we'll fire at you!" came from the launch, and then a pistol rang out and the ball whistled over the deck of the Dora.

"Are they really shooting at us?" asked Songbird, nervously, while Hans sought the shelter of the cabin in a hurry.

"I reckon not," answered Harold Bird. "That was simply meant as a warning."

Those on the houseboat waited for several minutes and then, imagining the launch was turning to the shore, Dick prepared another rocket.

"Get behind the woodwork," he said. "They may take it into their heads to aim at us when this goes up."

All sheltered themselves and with a rush the second rocket flew skyward. It had not been aimed at the launch, yet it cut the water within a yard of the Venus' side, much to the alarm of those on board.

"They are trying to shoot us with rockets!" yelled Dan Baxter.

"Take that!" said Sack Todd, and fired point-blank at the houseboat. The bullet hit a pane of glass in the cabin window, and there was a jingle followed by a yell from Hans.

"Sthop dot! Ton't kill me! I ain't vos tone noddings alretty! Of you schoot me again I vos haf you but in prison for a hundred years, ain't it!"

"Are you hit, Hans?" questioned Dick, running to the German boy.

"Putty near, Dick. Dot pullet knocked owit der glass chust ven I vos going to look owit!"

"They have hit on something!" came from Harold Bird, who had remained outside, behind a barrel.

"Hit?" queried Sam.

"Yes, they are stuck fast, and we are drifting right on top of them!"

The news proved true, the launch had gotten caught on a sunken tree trunk and was helpless on the bosom of the river, the propeller whirling madly. The houseboat was less than two hundred feet away and coming forward as swiftly as the current could carry her.

"Look out! Don't smash us—we are stuck!" yelled Dan Baxter.

"Sheer off!" came from Solly Jackson. "Sheer off, or we'll all be wrecked!"

It was a position of unexpected and extreme peril, and those on the houseboat realized it as well as those on the launch. Yet what to do our friends did not exactly know.

"Out with the sweeps—on this side!" called out Dick, and ran for the biggest sweep he could find. "Jam over the rudder!" he called to Songbird, who was at the tiller.

The rudder went over in a jiffy and out went three long sweeps. This served to swing the houseboat over several points, but not enough to take her entirely out of the course of the launch.

"We are going to hit as sure as fate!" cried Sam.

"Yes, and we may all go to the bottom," answered Fred.



CHAPTER XII

STUCK ON A SNAG

It was certainly a moment of intense anxiety, both for those on the launch and on the houseboat, and for the time being the fight between the two factions came to an end. A smash-up out there in that swiftly-flowing current might make it necessary for everybody to swim for his life.

"Can't you back the boat?" asked Sack Todd of Dan Baxter. "We must get out somehow!"

Dan Baxter worked over the motor for a few seconds, and just as the houseboat swung closer started the launch backwards. All expected a crash, but it did not come.

"The Dora is stuck!" called out Dick. "We have hit something under water!"

The eldest Rover was right, and slowly the houseboat began to swing around. In the meantime the launch backed away, made a half-circle, and began to move again down the Mississippi.

"They are loose!" called out Sam.

"Yes, and we are fast," answered Harold Bird. "But I am rather glad we didn't run into the launch and smash her completely."

The moving of the launch had caused the sunken tree trunk to turn partly over, and in this position two immense limbs caught the Dora tightly so that, although the houseboat swung broadside to the current, she could get no further.

"They are getting away from us!" cried Tom, as the Venus disappeared from view.

"Don't you dare to follow us any further," called out a voice from the darkness. "If you do, it will be at your peril!"

"It doesn't look as if we were going to follow them right away." grumbled Tom.

"Vos dose rascallions gone alretty?" questioned Hans, coming cautiously from the cabin.

"Yes."

"Dot's goot!"

The lanterns were lowered over the side of the houseboat, and after several minutes of inspection our friends located the source of the trouble.

"If we had the power to back away from that tree we'd be all right," observed Dick. "But as we haven't such power I do not know what we are going to do."

"Maybe we'll have to wait until morning," said Tom. "Then some passing boat can pull us away."

"And in the meantime those rascals will have a good chance to outwit us," said Sam, bitterly. "It's a shame!"

"Let us try to get the sweeps between the tree limbs and the houseboat," suggested Harold Bird. "Perhaps we can thus pry ourselves loose."

All were willing to try the plan, and while the young Southerner took one sweep Dick took another, with Sam and Tom to help them.

It was no easy matter to get the sweeps into position, for there was danger of one or another slipping overboard. To protect themselves each of the workers wound a rope around his waist and made the end fast to a stanchion.

"Now then, all together!" cried Dick, when the sweeps were finally in proper position, and they strained with all their might. Then came a crack, as one sweep broke, and Harold Bird and Sam were hurled flat on their backs on the deck.

"Never mind, better luck next time," said Songbird, as he brought another sweep forward.

They adjusted the new sweep with care and pulled on it gradually. At first the houseboat refused to budge, but presently it swung around a little and then more and more.

"Hurrah! we are getting her!" yelled Tom. "Now then, all together, as the tomcat said to the boy's with the brickbats."

They strained and the houseboat came loose, but alas! at that moment both sweeps slipped and slowly but surely the Dora swung into her former position and became jammed tighter than before.

"Another failure," sighed Dick.

"I'm about out of breath," said Sam, with a gasp.

"Let me try it," said Fred, and he, Hans, and Songbird set to work, with the others helping. But it was of no avail, the houseboat could not be moved sufficiently to clear herself of the sunken tree trunk with its immense limbs.

"Well, there is one thing to be thankful for," said Dick, as they rested from their labors. "That trunk might have gone through our sides or bottom and sunk us."

During the next hour two steamboats passed them, but not near enough to be asked for help. They cleaned their lanterns and hung them high up, so as to avoid a collision.

"It's queer that no craft came out to learn why the rockets were sent up," said Dick.

"Perhaps they thought some celebration was going on," answered Harold Bird.

"It's nearly two o'clock and I am dead tired," announced Tom. "Any objections to my going to sleep?"

"Not if you can get to sleep," answered his older brother.

"Half of us might as well turn in, while the other half remain on guard," said Sam, and so it was arranged. Two hours later the guard was changed, so that all got some much-needed rest, although a sound sleep was out of the question.

With the coming of morning the youths looked around eagerly for some craft to give them assistance. Yet it was a good hour before a steamboat came down the river and stopped at their call.

"What's wanted?"

"We want to be towed down the river," said Dick. "We'll pay you for the job."

"Are you stuck?"

"Yes, but you can easily pull us back and out."

"Where do you want to go?"

Those on the houseboat had already talked the matter over and decided to move on at least as far as Baraville, about twenty miles from New Orleans. Dick had once heard Sack Todd speak of the place and knew the man was acquainted there, and had also heard Solly Jackson say he had once lived in that locality.

"I'll tow you to Baraville if you wish it," said the captain of the small steamboat. "It will cost you ten dollars."

"All right, but get there as fast as you can," answered Dick. "We are in a big hurry."

A line was thrown out and made fast, and in a few minutes the houseboat was freed from the sunken tree. Then steamboat and houseboat swung around and the journey to Baraville was begun. It did not take long, and by half-past ten o'clock the Dora was tied up at the town levee, much to the astonishment of many colored folks who had never seen such a craft.

The Rovers' first movement was to ask if the launch had stopped there, and from a colored riverman they learned that the Venus had come in very early in the morning and had left again after those on board had gotten breakfast and a box of things—what the negro did not know.

"I heah dem folks talk erbout New Orleans," said the colored man. "I dun 'spect da gone dat way fo' certainly, I do!"

"Did you see the launch leave?" asked Sam.

"I suah did—an' a mighty po'erful smell dat boat did leab behind it!"

"That was the gasoline," said Fred, laughing.

"I 'spect it was, yes, sah," answered the colored man.

"If they went to New Orleans then we ought to go too—and be quick about it," said Dick.

"Don't you want to send some word to the ladies and the girls first?" asked Harold Bird.

"To be sure. We can send a telegram for all, and then send letters, too."

This was done, and the ladies and girls were told not to be alarmed—that all were satisfied everything would come out right in the end.

"No use of worrying them," said Tom. "They can worry after all the trouble is over," and at this quaint remark the others had to smile.

How to get down the river was at first a problem, but it was soon settled by Dick and Harold Bird. It was decided to leave the houseboat in the care of a trustworthy person at Baraville and then charter the small steamboat for the trip to New Orleans. As the captain wanted to go down the river anyway he made the charge for the charter very small, and before noon the craft was on her journey.

Fortunately for our friends the weather remained fine, and had they not been worried over the outcome of what was before them, they would have enjoyed the brief trip on the small steamboat very much. The captain had heard of the capture of the counterfeiters and was surprised to learn that the Rover boys had been the ones to aid in the round-up.

"You've got courage," said he. "I admire what you did. But if I were you I'd fight shy of that Sack Todd. He'll certainly have it in for you, for having broken up that gang."

"I only want to lay my hands on him, that's all," answered Dick. "I am not afraid of him."

"And that Gasper Pold is a bad one too," went on the captain. "I heard about him down in New Orleans. He cheated a lot of people with lottery tickets and policy-playing once, and they got after him hot-footed, and he had to clear out and lay low for awhile."

"Well, in one way the folks who are foolish enough to invest in lottery tickets or play policy deserve to lose their money," put in Sam.

"You are right, lad,—gambling is nothing short of a curse and nobody ought to stand for it. Why, on this very river men have been ruined by gambling, and some have committed suicide and others have become murderers, all because of cards—and drink. One is as bad as the other, and both as bad as can be."

"Of course they don't gamble as they used to," came from Harold Bird. "The times have changed a great deal for the better."



CHAPTER XIII

THE CAPTURE OF SOLLY JACKSON

The Rover boys and their friends from Putnam Hall had never been as far south as New Orleans before, and they viewed the city and its approaches with deep interest. The levees were piled high with cotton, molasses, and other commodities, and more activity was shown than they had witnessed since leaving the Ohio.

The small steamboat had a regular landing-place, but under orders from Dick and Harold Bird the captain took her up and down the levees and also to the other side of the stream. All on board kept their eyes open for a possible view of the launch, but nothing was seen of the Venus.

"It is possible that she has gone further," said Tom. "Wonder if we can't find out from some of the rivermen?"

"We can try anyway," returned Sam. "It doesn't cost money to ask questions."

They spent the remainder of that day in hunting for some trace of the launch and then put up at one of the leading hotels over Sunday. They rested soundly and after dinner felt, as Tom put it, "a hundred per cent. better and some extra." Then they took another walk and made more inquiries.

The captain of the small steamboat had no charter for the next few days, so he was anxious to remain in their employ, and he took them along the waterfront again early Monday morning. During this trip they fell in with another captain who told them he had seen the Venus on Sunday afternoon, with four men on board, puffing down the river.

"I was interested in the launch, so I noticed her particularly," said he. "Two of the men had quite some liquor aboard and I was thinking they might fall overboard, but they didn't." Then he described how the party was dressed, and our friends came to the conclusion that they must be Pold, Todd, Jackson, and Baxter.

"Where could they be going to next?" asked Fred.

"That remains for us to find out—if we can," answered Dick. "All I can think of to do, is to follow them."

"Can't we telegraph ahead to stop the launch and arrest those on board?" questioned Songbird.

"Yes, we can do that."

The authorities were consulted and the telegrams sent. Then off our friends hurried, and were soon on the way down the Mississippi once more.

About ten miles below New Orleans is the entrance to Lake Borge Canal, an artificial waterway connecting the Mississippi with Lake Borge, which opens, through Mississippi Sound, into the Gulf of Mexico. The captain of the small steamboat had an idea the men who had stolen the launch were making for this canal, and he was not mistaken. Arriving at the canal entrance, our friends learned that the launch had been taken through very early in the morning.

"Well, this ends the search so far as I am concerned," said the steamboat captain. "I suppose you want to go on somehow."

"Can't we send word to the other end of the canal?" asked Sam.

"Yes, we can telephone to the station there," answered Harold Bird, and this was done without delay.

"Want the launch Venus, do you?" came back over the wire. "She went through some hours ago.

"Where did she go to?"

"Somewhere on the lake."

This was all the satisfaction they could get, and bidding the steamboat captain goodbye after paying him off, the Rovers and their friends looked around for some means of getting to Lake Borge, a distance of seven or eight miles.

A barge was going through, and they were soon on board. They urged the owner to hurry and offered him big pay, and as a consequence before noon they reached the lake. Here they ran into an old fisherman, who told them that the persons in the launch had had a quarrel with two officers of the law and had sailed off in the direction of Bay St. Louis.

"This is certainly getting to be a long chase," remarked Tom. "First thing we know we'll be following them all the way across the Gulf of Mexico."

"Well, I am willing," answered Dick, promptly.

"And so am I," added Harold Bird. "I intend to bring them to justice if I possibly can."

Again there was a consultation, and the old fisherman told them how they might reach Bay St. Louis, a town of considerable importance on Mississippi Sound. The trip took some time, and on the way they looked around eagerly for some sight of the launch, but the craft did not appear.

At Bay St. Louis came a surprise. The launch had entered the harbor on fire and those on board had had to swim for their lives. The craft had been running at full speed, had struck a mud scow and gone under, and was now resting in eight feet of water and mud.

"Was she burnt very much?" asked Harold Bird, of the person who gave this information.

"I don't think she was," was the answer. "She went down before the flames got very far."

"And what of the rascals who ran, or rather swam, away?" asked Dick.

"They came ashore, went to a hotel, where they dried their clothing and got something to eat, and then went off to get the launch raised."

"I don't believe they intended to raise the launch," said Sam, promptly. "That was only a bluff."

"Exactly what I think," put in Tom. "Those fellows know they'll be followed sooner or later, and they'll try to make themselves scarce."

What to do next our friends scarcely knew. They went to several points along the sound front, but could gain no information of value.

"We've lost them," said Songbird, dismally. "All our long chase for nothing."

They were moving from one dock to another when they saw a man sitting on some bales of cotton, sleeping soundly and snoring lustily.

"Why, isn't that the carpenter who was going to repair the Dora?" cried Sam.

"Sure it is!" answered Tom. "Here is luck!"

"I wonder if those other rascals are near?" questioned Fred.

They looked all around, but soon reached the conclusion that Solly Jackson was alone. Then they shook the fellow and roused him. He had evidently been drinking, but he was now almost sober.

"What's the matter?" he demanded, sleepily. "Lemme alone, Pold."

"Wake up, you rascal!" cried Dick. "You're not on the launch."

"What's the reason I ain't?" stammered Solly Jackson. "Oh, she got on fire, didn't she? Well, let her burn!" And he attempted to go to sleep again.

"You'll wake up!" cried Harold Bird, and between them he and Dick shook the fellow until he was thoroughly aroused. When he realized his position he was greatly alarmed.

"Oh, gentlemen, it's all a mistake," he whined. "I—er—I didn't run off with the launch, or the houseboat either. All a mistake, I tell you!"

"It was a mistake," answered Dick, grimly. "And you'll find it so when you are behind the prison bars."

"Whe—where are the others?"

"That is what we want to know," said Tom. "Where did you leave them?"

"Ain't they here?"

"No. Where were you with them last?"

Solly Jackson scratched his head thoughtfully.

"At the tavern. I had several drinks, and that's the last I knew."

"Did they bring you here and leave you?" asked Sam.

"I reckon they did—I don't know exactly. But, gentlemen, I didn't steal the boats and things, really I didn't. It was Gasper Pold did the trick."

"You aided him," said Tom.

"He said at first he had bought the houseboat and was going to take her to New Orleans. He wanted me to go along and finish the repairs, and I didn't find out what was really up till we got to the Lake Sico bayou. Then he told me that if I didn't stick to him he'd shoot me."

"When did Sack Todd and Dan Baxter join you?" asked Sam.

"Just before we left. I don't know where they came from, but Pold knew Sack Todd well and Todd brought in the young fellow. Then they hid the houseboat in the bushes and stole what they could, and afterwards ran off with the launch."

"Yes, but you helped the others to make us prisoners," came from Songbird, severely.

"I did it because I had to—Pold said he'd shoot me if I went back on him. Mr. Bird,"—Solly Jackson turned to the young Southerner,—"you know I ain't no bad man like Pold an' that sort."

"I know you are weak-minded and weak-kneed," answered Harold Bird, in disgust. "But you stood in with those rascals and you must take the consequences."

"It's mighty hard on a fellow as ain't done nothin'!"

"Where did the other fellows go?" demanded Tom.

"I don't know—reckon they left me when I went to sleep here."

"Didn't they mention any place?" demanded Dick, sternly. "Come, if you expect us to be easy on you, you must tell us all you know."

"They did," answered Solly Jackson, after scratching his head again. "Gasper Pold said he thought of going to Tampa, Florida, where he has several friends. That young Baxter said he'd like to go to Tampa, and Sack Todd said he might go along. Then they talked of going over to Mobile, to get a steamer there for Tampa, but Pold said it wouldn't do, as all the steamboat landings and railroad offices might be watched. So then Pold said he would look around and see if he couldn't find some boat that was going to Tampa from here."

"A steamer?" queried Harold Bird.

"Either that or a sailing vessel, he didn't much care which. He said a sailing vessel might be safer, especially if they could ship without those on shore knowing it."

This was practically all that Solly Jackson could tell them. As he grew more sober he seemed truly repentant of his misdeeds. He said Gasper Pold had plied him with liquor before running away with the Dora, and that had he been perfectly sober he should never have aided in such a rascally bit of work. That he had been nothing more than a tool from start to finish there could be little doubt. He agreed to go with them and do all he could to locate his former companions, and also do what he could towards having the gasoline launch raised and put in order.



CHAPTER XIV

ON A GULF STEAMER

"Well, now for a life on the ocean wave!" came from Tom.

"Und a houses on der rollings deeps," put in Hans.

"And may the enemy be captured in short order," came from Harold Bird.

"All well enough to hope that, but I am afraid we have some work before us, perhaps something we won't like," said Dick, seriously. "Those men know that the prison is staring them in the face, and they will do all in their power to escape. If cornered they may put up a stiff fight."

"Well, we can put up a fight too," answered Sam.

The conversation took place on the forward deck of the Mascotte, a gulf steamer running from Mobile to Tampa and other points on the Florida coast. Two days had passed since the boys had arrived at Bay St. Louis and in that time they had accomplished several things of more or less importance.

It had been an easy matter to obtain all possible information from Solly Jackson, and for the time being the fellow was in the hands of the law, awaiting further developments. He had promised, if the others were captured, that he would give evidence against them, and in return for this Dick and Harold Bird said they would be easy on the carpenter when he came up for trial.

The gasoline launch had been raised without much trouble and towed to a shipyard, where she was to undergo repairs. The craft was not damaged a great deal, but would need a new gasoline tank and some new seats. Fortunately the gasoline supply had been low at the time the fire broke out, otherwise those on board would have been blown sky-high.

After numerous inquiries Tom and Sam Rover had learned that Pold, Todd, and Dan Baxter had taken passage for Tampa on a schooner named the Dogstar. The vessel carried a light load of lumber consigned to a firm that was erecting a new winter hotel on Tampa Bay, and expected to make a fairly quick passage across the gulf.

The Rovers and their friends had taken the train from Bay St. Louis to Mobile, after first sending messages to Mrs. Stanhope, Mrs. Laning, and the girls. At Mobile they had just been in time to catch the Mascotte and had been equally fortunate in securing several vacant staterooms.

"We'll head them off this time," said Tom, yet this was by no means certain, it depending somewhat on the quickness of the trip made by the lumber schooner. The Mascotte was by no means a first-class steamer, and it had been a question, the day before the voyage was undertaken, if she had not better be laid up for repairs to her engine and boilers. But of this our friends knew nothing.

As soon as the trip was begun Dick and Harold Bird had an interview with the captain of the steamer and told the latter how anxious they were to get track of the Dogstar. To their dismay, however, the captain proved to be anything but agreeable and said he could not bother himself over their personal affairs, even when offered pay to do so.

"He's a regular lemon," said Tom. "I don't think he'd do a favor for anybody."

"And this steamer is a tub," answered Sam. "I shouldn't wish to travel very far in her."

Yet with it all the boys felt in pretty fair spirits as they gathered on the deck and talked matters over. But in less than an hour they were in open rebellion.

They went to the dining room for dinner and were served with food that was scarcely fit to eat. As they had paid for first-class accommodations all found fault.

"Waiter, bring me some meat that isn't burnt," said Sam.

"And bring me some that is fresh," added Harold Bird.

"And bring me a cup of coffee that is worth more than ten cents a pound," came from Songbird. "This is nothing but mud."

"Even this bread is next door to being sour," said Fred.

"Yah, dis vos der vorst tinner vot I efer see alretty!" was Hans' comment. "I vos make a kick py der cabtain, ain't it!"

"Sorry, gen'men," said the waiter. "But dat meat am de best we have, an' dar ain't no udder kind ob coffee an' bread, sah!"

"Whose fault is it, the cook's or the captain's?" asked Tom.

At this question the waiter shrugged his shoulders. Then he leaned over and whispered into Tom's ear.

"Wish yo' would make a kick—I hates to serve sech food—'deed I does!"

The boys left the table half hungry and so did the other passengers. Dick walked up to one of the others.

"Don't you think we ought to make them serve us with better food?" he asked, flatly.

"I do, sir," was the answer of the passenger. "But the cook said it was the best he had. He said we might go to the captain or to anybody we please. He is going to leave the boat when we arrive at Tampa."

Without more ado Dick, Harold Bird, and about a dozen others sought out Captain Fretwood, who was in his private cabin.

"What is it?" demanded the officer, eying the crowd sourly.

"We have come to complain of the food served at dinner," said Dick. "It was so poor we could not eat it."

"Oh, the food is all right," answered the captain in an overbearing tone.

"No, it is not all right," put in Harold Bird.

"We paid for first-class accommodations and we want first-class food," put in Tom, with spirit.

"That's the talk," came from several in the crowd.

"See here, I am not to be dictated to by a lot of boys!" cried Captain Fretwood, angrily. "We are giving you good food, and that is all there is to it."

"It's a fraud!" cried Sam.

"A downright imposition," added Songbird.

"Our tickets read 'First Cabin with Meals,'" said Fred. "Those meals aren't good enough for steerage passengers. Unless you give us something better—"

"Ha! do you threaten me on my own ship?" bellowed the captain.

"We certainly do!" said Dick, as Fred glanced at him questioningly.

"I can put you in irons for it, young man!"

"No, you can't. We are not going to touch you or any of your crew. But unless you serve us with first-class food from now on I, for one, shall make a complaint against you as soon as we land, and have you arrested."

At this announcement the face of the captain of the Mascotte grew purple with rage. He stepped forward as if to strike Dick. But the latter stood his ground, looked the irate officer full in the eyes, and the man paused.

"We have had trouble enough without your adding to it," said Harold Bird. "We ask only that which is due us."

"The young man is perfectly right," said an elderly passenger. "The food is horrible. If he makes a complaint to the authorities I shall sustain him."

"So will I," added several.

"All right, have your own way," grumbled the captain. "I see you are bound to get me in a hole. If the food wasn't good it was the fault of the cook."

"He says it is your fault, and he is going to leave you at the end of this trip."

"Bah! Well, we'll see. If he can't serve the food properly cooked I'll be glad to get rid of him."

After that an all-around discussion ensued, lasting quarter of an hour. Led by the boys the passengers were very outspoken, and as a consequence the next meal was fairly good, although not exactly first-class.

"We tuned him up, that's certain," said Sam.

"I am glad you did," said a passenger sitting opposite. "I was afraid I should be starved to death before we reached land."

"He'll have it in for us," said Fred. "Every time he looks at me he glares like a wild beast."

"We'll keep our eyes open," said Dick. "But I don't think he'll do anything. He knows we were in the right. I reckon he's more of a talker than anything else," and in this surmise the eldest Rover was correct.

During the afternoon a heavy mist swept over the gulf and the speed of the Mascotte had to be slackened. Two men were placed on watch besides the pilot, but they could see little.

"This is going to delay us still more," said Tom, and he was right. About six o'clock they came near crashing into another steamboat, and after that the forward movement was almost checked entirely.

All on board felt it would be a night of more or less peril, and consequently the trouble over the meals was forgotten. The captain paced the deck nervously, and the pilot and other watchers strained their eyes to pierce the gloom.

"I must say, I don't feel much like turning in," remarked Sam. "I can't tell why it is, either."

"I feel myself as if something unusual was in the air," answered Tom.

"Boys," said Dick to his brothers, "if anything should happen, stick together."

"To be sure," came from Sam and Tom.

"But do you think something will really happen?" added the youngest Rover.

"I don't know what to think. I know this steamer is worse than an old tub, and I know that the mist is getting so thick you can cut it with a knife."

"I wish we were on shore again, Dick."

"So do I."

"Py chiminatics!" came from Hans. "Owit on der deck you can't see your face before your nose alretty!"

"Of course you know what this means, Hans," answered Tom, who was bound to have a little fun in spite of the seriousness of the situation.

"Vot does dot mean?"

"You know they have great earthquakes down here, and great volcanoes."

"Vell, vot of dot?"

"When it gets so misty as this then look out for a fearful earthquake and a great volcanic eruption."

"You ton't tole me!" gasped the German youth. "Say, I ton't vont no earthkvakes, not much I ton't!"

"Maybe it won't do much harm—only sink the ship," put in Sam, taking his cue from Tom.

"Sink der ship? Den ve peen all drowned, ain't it? Say, Sam, how kvick you dink dem earthkvakes come, hey?"

"Oh, some time to-night," answered the youngest Rover.

"Mine cracious! Ve peen all killed asleep!" groaned Hans. "Say, I dink I ton't go py der ped, not me!" he added, earnestly.

At that moment came a cry from the deck. It was followed by a thump and a crash that threw all of the boys flat on the floor of the cabin of the steamer.



CHAPTER XV

THE CASTAWAYS OF THE GULF

"It vos der earthkvake!" yelled Hans, as he scrambled to his feet. "Der oceans vos all busted up alretty! Safe me!" And he ran for the cabin doorway.

"We must have struck something in the fog!" cried Dick, as he, too, arose. "Oh!"

Another crash had come, heavier than the first, and the Mascotte careened far over to port. Then came wild screams from the deck, followed by orders delivered in rapid succession. All in a moment the passengers were in a panic, asking what had been struck and if the steamer was going down.

The Rovers and their friends tried to make their way on deck, but another shock threw Fred and Songbird back into the cabin and partly stunned them. Then Harold Bird ran to his stateroom, to get a pocketbook containing his money.

Out on the deck all was misty, the lights gleaming faintly through the darkness. To one side loomed up another steamer, of the "tramp" variety, heavily laden with a miscellaneous cargo from Central American ports.

"The Mascotte is going down!" was the cry, as the steamer gave a suspicious lurch. Then came another crash, and before he knew it Dick Rover went spinning over the side, into the dark and misty waters of the gulf!

It was certainly a time of extreme peril, and had not poor Dick kept his wits about him he must surely have been drowned. Down he went over his head and it was fully quarter of a minute before he came to the surface once more, spluttering and clashing the water from his eyes. He looked around, felt something hard hit him, and then went under once more.

He knew he was near the bottom of some ship and held his breath as long as possible. When he again arose it was to gasp for air. Now he was free of the ship, and the rolling waters of the Gulf of Mexico lay all around him.

His first impulse was to cry out for help, and again and again he raised his voice. But the confusion on board the Mascotte and the other steamer was so great that nobody heard him, or, at least, paid any attention.

Dick strained his eyes and could make out the steamer lights dimly. He was about to yell again, when something floated near and struck him down once again. But as he came up he caught at the object and held fast to it. It was a large crate, empty, and with considerable difficulty he climbed on top.

"This is better than nothing," he thought. And then, catching his breath, he set up a long and lusty cry, in the meantime watching with a sinking heart the lights of both steamers as they faded from view.

A quarter of an hour passed—it seemed much longer to poor Dick,—and the lights disappeared entirely. His heart sank like lead in his bosom.

"They won't come back for me now," he reasoned. "Perhaps the steamboat is sinking and the others have enough to do to think of saving themselves."

The crate Dick was upon was not extra large, and it merely allowed him to keep his head and shoulders out of water. Fortunately the night was not cold, so he suffered little from his involuntary bath. But he realized the seriousness of his situation and was correspondingly sober.

"I must be a good way from land," he reasoned. "I'll have my own troubles saving myself, even if the mist clears away."

Another quarter of an hour went by and then Dick thought he heard voices. He strained his ears.

"I think Dick went overboard too, although I am not sure," came, in Sam's tones.

"Yah, I dink dot," answered Hans Mueller. "Und I dink Tom he falls ofer also alretty!"

"Hullo, there!" cried Dick.—"Is that you, Sam?"

"Who calls?" came the answering query. "It is I, Dick Rover!"

"Dick!" came from Sam and Hans.

"Where are you?"

"This way!" called Sam, and kept on calling until Dick drew closer and at last made out his brother and the German boy clinging to another crate.

"This is lucky—as far as it goes," said Sam. "Are you hurt?"

"Not at all. And you?"

"I got a scratch on my wrist, that is all, and Hans says he twisted his left ankle a little. But we are glad we weren't drowned."

"What of the others?"

"I am almost sure Tom went overboard. I think the others remained on the steamer."

"Was she sinking?"

"I think she was. I heard somebody say there was a big hole stove in her near the port bow."

After that the three youths pulled the two crates together. A grass rope was fastened to one of the affairs and they used this in joining the two, and then the castaways made themselves as comfortable as possible on their improvised raft.

The thought that Tom might have been drowned cast a gloom over Sam and Dick and also made Hans feel bad. Consequently but little was said for the next few hours. All kept their eyes strained for the sight of some friendly light, but none came to view.

"How many miles do you think we are from shore?" asked Sam, presently.

"I haven't any idea," answered Dick. "At least fifty or a hundred."

"Ve vill nefer see der land again!" groaned Hans. "I vish ve had gone to dot Dampa py railroad drain, ain't it!"

"Well, even railroad trains occasionally have smash-ups," answered Dick, philosophically.

At last it began to grow light and with the coming of morning the mist lifted a trifle, so that they were able to see around them. A gentle breeze was blowing, causing the bosom of the gulf to ruffle up. Sam climbed up to the top of the crates.

"See anything?" queried his brother.

"Well, I never!" ejaculated the youngest Rover. "If that doesn't beat the nation!"

He pointed off to their left and then all looked—and actually laughed. And well might they do so.

There, on the waters, rode a rude raft made of several empty boxes and crates. On the top of this affair stood a campstool, and on the stool sat Tom Rover, making himself as comfortable as possible.

"Tom!" the others yelled in concert, and the fun-loving Rover looked around eagerly.

"Hello, you!" he called back. "How many?"

"Three," answered Sam. "Dick, Hans, and myself."

"Good enough."

"You certainly seem to be taking it easy," said Dick, as the two rude rafts floated close to each other.

"Well, why not take it easy if it doesn't cost any more?" demanded Tom, coolly. "I either had to sit on the chair or in the water, and I preferred to sit on the chair."

"Do you know anything about the others, Tom?"

"No, but I am afraid they are drowned," and now the fun-loving Rover became serious. "What makes you think that?" asked Sam.

"I think the steamer went down with nearly everybody on board."

"Dot is terrible!" burst out Hans. "Poor Fred! Und poor Songpird! Vot vill der folks say ven da hear dot?" And he shook his head, dubiously.

"And poor Harold Bird!" added Dick. He had taken a strong liking to the young Southerner.

As it grew lighter those on the bosom of the gulf looked vainly for some sign of land or a sail, but hour after hour passed and nothing came to view but the waters under them and the mist and sky overhead.

"I am more than hungry," grumbled Tom. "I didn't get half enough to eat on that steamer and now I could lay into almost anything."

"Ditto here," answered his younger brother.

"Der poat must haf gone town," said Hans. "Of not, den da vould look aroundt and pick us ub, hey?"

"I don't believe Captain Fretwood would put himself out to look for us," answered Dick. "He hated our whole crowd and would gladly get rid of us."

A little later Sam shifted his position and chanced to place a hand in one of his coat pockets.

"Here's luck!" he cried. "Not much, but something." And he drew forth a thick cake of sweet chocolate, done up in tinfoil and paper.

"Oh, it's salted and will make us thirsty," said Dick.

The chocolate was examined and found to be in fairly good condition, and despite the salt they could not resist the temptation to divide the cake and eat it up. As my readers must know, chocolate is very nourishing and they felt much better after the brief lunch, although very thirsty.

"I bought that on the train from Bay St. Louis to Mobile," explained the youngest Rover. "Sorry now I didn't get half a dozen."

"And a bottle of lemon soda with it," added Tom, who was bound to have a little fun no matter how serious the outlook.

Slowly the morning wore away. About eleven o'clock it looked as if the sun might come out, but soon it clouded over as before and then the mist began to crawl up.

"This is terrible," sighed Sam, at last. "Dick, what can we do?"

"I don't know, Sam. If we knew in what direction the land lay we might make some effort to reach it."

"We couldn't paddle the rafts fifty or a hundred miles."

"I am in hope that some steamer or sailing vessel will come this way and pick us up," answered Dick.

Then a silence fell on the little crowd. Matters were growing serious indeed, and all wondered how the adventure would end.



CHAPTER XVI

A DESERTED STEAM YACHT

"Dick, am I mistaken, or do I see a vessel over yonder?"

Tom asked the question, as he suddenly straightened up and took a long look over to where the mist had temporarily lifted.

"It certainly does look like a ship of some sort," answered Dick, gazing forward with equal eagerness.

"Shall ve call owid?" asked Hans.

"It is too far off."

"Is she coming this way?" asked Sam, who had gotten so much salt water in his eyes that he could not see very well.

"I am not sure if it is a ship," said Tom. "But it is certainly something."

"Let us try to paddle closer," suggested his older brother, and all set to work; Tom using the folded campstool, and the others some bits of boards from the crates.

Very slowly they approached the object, until they felt certain it was a vessel, a steam yacht, as they made out a few minutes later. But no smoke curled from the funnel of the craft, nor could they make out anybody on the deck.

"Yacht ahoy!" yelled Dick, when he felt that his voice might be heard.

To this hail there was no answer, and although the boys strained their eyes to the utmost, they saw nobody moving on the craft ahead.

"Yacht ahoy!" screamed Tom, using his hands as a trumpet. "Yacht ahoy!"

Still there was no answer, nor did a soul show himself. The curiosity of the castaways was aroused to the highest pitch, and as vigorously as they could they paddled to the side of the steam yacht. The craft was not a large one, but seemed to be of good build and in first-class trim. The wheel was lashed fast, causing her to ride fairly well in the faint breeze. Not a sail was set.

"Ahoy! ahoy!" yelled all of the boys in concert.

"Vos you teat, alretty?" asked Hans. "Of you vos, vy ton't you tole somepoty?"

"Gracious, do you think all on board are dead?" cried Sam.

"Either that or else the owners belong to a deaf and dumb asylum," responded Tom.

The castaways continued to call out and in the meantime brought their rude raft close to the side of the steam yacht. As the vessel slipped past them slowly, they threw a bit of rope to the rudder post and made fast.

"Everybody must be below and asleep," said Dick, "although I never before heard of such strange proceedings."

"Nor I," came from Sam. "But the question is, Are we going on board or not?"

"Are we? Of course we are!" burst out Tom. "They couldn't keep me off with a pitchfork. I want a drink of water if nothing else, and I am bound to have it."

"Aboard the yacht!" yelled Dick again. "Why don't you show yourselves and say something? Are you all deaf?"

Still no answer, and the boys looked at each other in amazement.

"Am I dreaming?" demanded Tom.

"Maybe the ship is a—a—phantom?" whispered Sam, and gave a little shiver.

"Well, I am going on board, even if it's the Flying Dutchman himself," cried Tom, bravely.

"Flying Dutchmans?" queried Hans. "Der vos no Dutchmans vot fly, vos dare?"

"Tom is speaking of a phantom ship with a phantom crew, I guess," said Sam. "Tom, how are you going to get on deck?" he added, to his brother.

This was a question Tom could not answer at once. The rail of the steam yacht was some feet above their heads and how to reach it was a problem.

"You can take the ropes from the rafts," suggested Dick. "Perhaps we won't want them any longer."

They took the ropes, tied them together, and Tom threw one end upward. After several failures he got the rope around the rail and the end down within reach, and then he went up hand over hand, in true sailor fashion, for Tom had been a first-class climber from early childhood, "Always getting into mischief," as his Aunt Martha had been wont to say.

"Don't you fellows want to come up?" asked the fun-loving Rover, as soon as he was safe.

"Certainly we do," answered Dick. "Go on, Hans and Sam. I can wait till last."

It was not so easy for Hans to get up and Tom at the top and Dick at the bottom had to aid him. Then Sam went up like a monkey, and the eldest Rover followed, and the crates and boxes, with the campstool, were allowed to drift away.

Once on board the steam yacht the Rovers and Hans looked around with keen curiosity. Not a soul was on deck, in the upper cabin, or in the tiny wheelhouse.

"This is enough to give a fellow the creeps!" declared Sam. "I must say I almost hate to go below."

"Just the way I feel," added Tom. "Perhaps we've run into some great tragedy."

"Everything on deck is in apple-pie order," was Dick's comment. "It certainly is a mystery. But I am going below."

"Wait, Dick!" cried Sam. "Would it not be as well to arm yourself?"

"Perhaps," was the reply, and then all of the "boys procured belaying pins or whatever was handy, with which to ward off a possible attack.

"Maybe they had a lion on board and he ate the whole crew up," suggested Tom.

"Say, of der vos a lion—" began Hans, drawing back.

"Oh, Tom is fooling," interrupted Dick. "They don't carry a menagerie on a vessel like this. Why, this is a gentleman's pleasure yacht."

"Well then, bring on the gentleman," responded the irrepressible Tom. "I shouldn't like anything better than to be introduced to him."

They had almost passed to the last step of the companionway when Sam called a sudden halt.

"Boys, perhaps, after all, we had better keep out of that cabin," he said.

"Why, Sam?"

"This may be a pest ship. The whole crew may have died of yellow fever, or something like that!"

At this announcement all looked at each other with added alarm showing in their faces. A pest ship! The idea filled them with horror.

"If it's that—and we've caught the fever—" began Tom.

"Oh, I vish I vos home, oder at school!" groaned Hans, beginning to shake from head to foot. "Of ve catch der yellow fefer ve peen all teat in a veek!"

For several seconds there was silence, then Dick walked down the last step of the companionway and threw the door below open with a bang.

"I am going to find out what this means," muttered the eldest Rover. "If we are to catch the fever, maybe we've got it already." And he walked into the cabin, and one after another the others followed.

All was in as good order as on deck. On the table lay several books and magazines, one opened and turned face downward as if just placed there.

"Somebody has been reading," murmured Sam. "What did he stop for?" He picked up the magazine and read the heading of one of the articles, "Famous Suicides of Modern History." "Ugh! what delightful literature to read. Just the thing for the young ladies' department of a public library!"

Dick had moved forward to one of the staterooms. With caution he opened the door and peeped in. The apartment was empty, but the berth looked as if it had recently been used.

"Hullo, somebody has been camping out in here," he called. "The bed is mussed up and here's a suit of clothes hanging on the wall."

"And a pair of slippers on the floor," added Sam, over his shoulder.

Gradually the boys grew bolder, and traveled from one stateroom to another and then to the dining room and the cook's galley. Not a person was to be found anywhere. In the galley some cooking had been done and several pans and pots were dirty, but that was all.

"Water!" cried Tom, coming to a cooler. He got the cup and took a long drink, and the others followed.

"And something to eat," added Sam, with satisfaction. "Owner or no owner, I am going to have a square meal just as soon as this inspection is over."

"I dink I sthart now," commented Hans, reaching for a box of crackers. He helped himself and passed them around, and soon all were munching.

From the cook's galley they visited the engine room. The machinery appeared to be in perfect order, the bunkers were half-full of coal, and the firebox was still somewhat warm. But the place was totally deserted.

"This is a deserted steam yacht," said Dick, at last. "I do not think there is a soul on board. We are in absolute possession."



CHAPTER XVII

IN UNDISPUTED POSSESSION

It was a remarkable state of affairs and it took the Rover boys and the German youth a full hour to comprehend it. During that time they explored the steam yacht from end to end and then sat down to eat such a meal as they could fix up hastily. They had canned meat and vegetables, coffee and biscuits, and some canned fruit.

"Dick, how do you solve this mystery?" asked Tom, while they were eating.

"I can't solve it at all," answered his brother. "It is beyond me."

"By the papers we found downstairs I should say the yacht might belong to a man named Roger Leland," put in Sam. "But that doesn't help us out any, for none of us ever heard of that individual."

"If there had been a storm we might think the persons on board had been swept away," went on Dick. "But we haven't had a heavy storm for some time."

"And the yacht hasn't run into anything, for she isn't damaged in the least."

"If we take her into port we can claim salvage," said Sam.

"Certainly, Sam, and heavy salvage too," came from Tom. "But I must say I'd let a dollar or two of that salvage slip right now just to know the explanation of this mystery. Why, it's like a romance!"

"It's a grand good thing for us," said Dick. "If we hadn't found this steam yacht we might have died of hunger and thirst."

"Yah, dot's so," answered Hans. "Of you blease, Dom, I takes me anudder cub of coffee, hey?"

"Hans, that makes four you've had already!"

"Vell, I vos alful try," answered the German youth, complacently.

"The best of it is, the yacht seems to be fairly well stocked with food and water," was Dick's comment, after a pause. "We'll not starve to death, even if it takes a week to reach port."

"Why, we ought to reach port in a couple of days!" cried Sam. "Some of these steam yachts can run very fast."

"So they can—with a competent engineer. But who is going to be the engineer? and who the pilot?"

"Oh, we can pilot her," declared Tom, loftily. "It's as easy as licking cream, as the cat said."

"Maype you vos run us on der rocks," put in Hans.

"I don't think there are many rocks out here—but we'll have to consult the chart," said Dick. "Oh, I think we can pilot her to some port. But I must confess I don't know much about running an engine."

"We'll make her go somehow," answered Tom. "Even if I have to shove the piston rod myself," and at this remark both of his brothers had to laugh.

The more they thought of it the more wonderful did the situation appear to be. It was so wonderful that for the balance of that day they allowed the craft to drift as before. Tom and Sam started up a fair-sized fire under the boiler, after making certain that the latter was more than half-full of water. They knew enough about an engine to locate the safety valve and saw that this was in working order.

"Now, if we get up steam we won't be blown sky-high anyway," said Sam.

While Sam and Tom were experimenting in the engine room, Dick and Hans tried to make themselves familiar with the wheel and the things on deck, and the oldest Rover studied the chart found in the cabin, and the compass.

"I think we are about here," said Dick, when all came together in the cabin, and he traced a circle on the chart with a lead pencil. "Now if that is so, then we'll have to steer directly southeast to reach Tampa Bay."

"Hurrah for Captain Dick!" cried Tom. "Dick, you get your diploma as soon as we land."

"Well, isn't that right?"

"It certainly is according to the map," answered Sam.

"So all you and Tom have got to do is to furnish the power—and not blow us up—and then you get your diplomas too."

"Vot do I got?" asked Hans.

"Oh, you get a big Limburger cheese," cried Tom.

"Vell, dot's putty goot too," answered the youth of Teutonic extraction.

"We'll arrange it this way," said Dick. "Tom can be engineer, Sam fireman, myself pilot, and Hans can be admiral and crew combined."

"Vot does dot crew to?" asked Hans, eagerly.

"Oh, the crew swabs the deck and keelhauls the anchor," answered Tom. "In between times you thread the yardarm, too."

"Vell, den I vill haf mine hands full, ain't it!"

"You eat so much you ought to do some work," said Sam. "If you don't work you'll get as fat as a barrel."

With the coming of night our young friends looked to the lanterns of the steam yacht and refilled those which were empty at an oil barrel stored in the bow of the craft. Then they lit up, and also lit up the cabin.

"I think we may as well cook ourselves a real dinner for this evening," said Dick. "No makeshift affair either."

All were willing, and an hour and a half later they sat down to the table and ate as good a meal as the stores of the steam yacht afforded. Evidently the craft belonged to some person of good taste, for the eatables were of the very best.

"There, that puts new life into a fellow!" declared Dick, after the repast was over. "If I only knew what had become of the Mascotte and the other fellows—knew that our friends were safe—I'd feel quite happy."

"Oh, don't speak of the Mascotte!" answered Sam, with a shiver. "I can't bear to think that Fred and Songbird have been drowned!"

"Let us hope for the best," said Tom, with a sigh. And for the moment all traces of fun disappeared from his countenance.

Thinking it might be a good plan to cast anchor over night, they attempted to do so. But although they let out all the rope and chain, no bottom could be found.

"The water is certainly deep here," said Dick, after the anchor had been brought up again. "I don't think there is any danger of striking rocks."

"Not unless the steam yacht sinks a mile or two," said Tom, with a grin.

It was decided that one person should remain on watch during the night, to report any vessel that might pass and to watch the fire under the boiler. Dick said he would stay up, and Tom told his brother to call him at two in the morning.

"And call me at four," said Sam. "I want to do my share."

The night proved to be as misty as that previously passed, and although first Dick and then Sam and Tom kept their eyes on the alert, nothing was seen or heard of any other vessel. Once Dick fancied he heard the faraway toot of a foghorn, but the sound, whatever it was, was not repeated.

By morning it was raining. At first only a few drops came down, but then it began to pour, so that all were glad to remain under shelter. Hans and Sam prepared breakfast, while Tom looked after the engine and the fire and Dick kept watch on deck.

"It is going to be a corker," was Dick's comment, when he came in for something to eat. "The rain is so thick now you can't see a dozen yards in any direction."

"Let us hope that the rain will clear away the mist," said Sam. "Then perhaps we'll have some sunshine for a change."

"It's all right, if only it doesn't start to blow," answered Tom. "But you must remember that they have some pretty fierce storms down here."

The rain continued to come down as hard as ever and kept up until near noon. In the meantime, however, Sam and Tom got up enough steam to run the yacht at a low rate of speed.

"We can try her that way first," said Tom. "Then, if it's O. K., we'll give her a hundred pounds or so."

"Now, Tom, be careful of that engine!" pleaded Dick. "It won't do to monkey too much."

"Oh, I'll be careful, Dick. I don't want to be blown up any more than you do."

"Remember the old saying, 'The more haste the less speed,'" warned the big brother.

It was with a peculiar thrill that Dick took his place in the wheelhouse and rang the bell for the engine to start. Tom, below, was equally excited as he turned on the power. There was a peculiar hissing and bubbling, but the propeller did not turn.

"What's the matter?" called down Dick, through the speaking tube. "Didn't you hear my signal?"

He listened for a reply, but instead of Tom's voice he heard the fierce hissing of steam. Then, of a sudden, came a yell from Tom.

"Shut off that steam, Sam! Quick! or I'll be scalded to death!"



CHAPTER XVIII

IN PERIL OF STEAM

As quickly as he could, Dick rushed from the wheelhouse and toward the companionway leading to the engine room.

"Vot's der madder?" bawled Hans, who was at the rail, waiting for the steam yacht to start.

"Tom's in trouble," ejaculated the eldest Rover, and went down the stairs four steps at a time, with the German youth behind him.

The engine room was full of steam, so that for the moment Dick could see little. A pipe running along one side of the engine had burst, and Tom was hemmed in a corner. To get out he would have to pass through the furious outpouring of steam, which might scald him to death.

Not far away was Sam, frantically trying to turn the steam off. But the youngest Rover's knowledge of engines and marine machinery was limited and, while he fussed around, the steam in the narrow engine room kept growing thicker and thicker.

"Get down on the floor, Tom!" yelled Dick, as he took in the situation. "Maybe you can crawl out."

Tom did as urged, and like a snake he attempted to crawl from his position of peril. But when he was only halfway he got stuck.

"I—I can't make it!" he panted, trying to worm along. "I—I'm too big."

"Can you go back—I see a door behind you," said Dick.

Tom went back, and as he did this Dick ran out of the engine room and to one of the coal bunkers. Here was the door the eldest Rover had seen. It was closed and barred and somewhat rusty, and he had to exert all his strength to make it budge.

"Quick! quick!" came faintly from Tom. "I can't stand this much longer!"

"This way out, Tom!" called Dick, as the door at last flew open. In the cloud of steam that rushed into the coal bunker Dick saw his brother faintly, and caught him by the arm and pulled him forward. In a moment more both were safe.

"Sam, are you all right?" yelled Dick, rushing again to the engineroom door proper.

"Whe—where's Tom?"

"Safe."

"Oh! then I'll come out," and Sam staggered into the fresh air.

"Mine cracious! vos der ship going to plow up!" gasped Hans, who had stood looking on with his hair standing on end.

"I don't think so," answered Dick. "The steam will soon blow itself away. You didn't have very much pressure; did you, Tom?"

"No, but it was too much when the pipe burst. Gosh! I was afraid I was going to be boiled alive!" and he shuddered.

"It's about gone now," came from Sam, who was watching at the doorway. "It isn't hissing nearly as much as it did." He was right, and presently the hissing ceased entirely. Then Sam, Dick, and Hans opened all the portholes and doors, to let out the steam, and soon the scare was over. But Tom felt "shaky in the legs," as he termed it, for some hours afterwards.

"I suppose I should have tested all those pipes and valves as soon as I had just a little steam," said the fun-loving Rover. "There is where I wasn't a good engineer. Well, one thing is certain, nothing gave way but the single pipe."

"And that could happen on any steamer," answered Dick. "Any engine is liable to a breakdown of this kind. The question is, Are we machinists enough to repair the break? If we are not, then we'll have to let the steam power go and hoist some sails."

"Oh, that would be slow work!" cried Sam. "Let us try to fix the pipe. I saw some extra pieces in the tool room. Maybe one of them will fit."

With the engine room cleared of steam they inspected the split pipe. It was a piece exactly two feet long, and they looked over the pieces in the tool room and found one just half an inch shorter.

"I think that will do," said Dick. "We won't be able to couple it on quite so tightly as the other was but we can pack it well, and I guess it will last till we reach some port."

The tool room was supplied with the necessary wrenches and all of the boys spent two hours in fitting in the new piece of pipe. Then they inspected the other pipes and the engine, but everything appeared to be in first-class shape.

The fire had been allowed to die down while the repairs were going on, and was not started up again until the work had been completed.

"Say, don't I look like a nigger?" demanded Tom, as he put down some tools. "If I don't, I feel black from head to foot."

"You are certainly pretty grimy," answered Sam, with a laugh. "But I am that myself."

"We'll all have to go in for a good wash," said Dick.

"Vy ton't you chump oferpoard?" demanded Hans, who was pretty dirty himself.

"Say! just the thing!" ejaculated Tom. "A swim wouldn't go bad on such a hot day as this? Let us go in by all means!"

Sam was delighted at the suggestion, for the calm waters of the gulf looked very inviting. Dick did not care so much for a swim, but said he would go in if the others did.

"Dare vos a whole lot of pathing suits in von of der lockers," said Hans. "I vill git dem."

He soon appeared with the suits, and in less than ten minutes all of the boys were ready for a plunge. The waters of the gulf appeared to be unusually calm and nothing disturbed the surface.

"Here goes!" cried Tom, and poised on the rail he made a splendid dive and disappeared like a flash. Sam and Dick immediately followed. Hans remained on the rail, grinning.

"Why don't you come in, Hans?" yelled Sam, as he came up and commenced to swim about.

"I dink you vos chumps alretty," answered the German boy, calmly.

"Chumps?" returned Dick.

"Dot's it!"

"Why?"

"You chump oferpoard und you ton't know how you vos going to git pack, ain't it!" And now Hans laughed outright.

"Well, I never!" cried Tom. "We forgot to throw even a rope down!"

"We certainly would have had a time getting on deck," was Dick's comment. "Hans, throw an end of the rope ladder down."

"Dot vos vot I dink mineselluf," answered the German youth, and did as requested. Then he, too, took a dive, coming up and blowing like a porpoise.

It was certainly good sport and the four boys enjoyed it thoroughly. With the aid of the rope ladder it was easy to climb on the deck of the steam yacht, and they did a good deal of diving and running around. They also had a race, Tom offering a pint of ice cream to the first one around the ship. Dick won this race, with all of the others in a bunch at his heels. He was just reaching the end when Tom caught him by the ankle and held him fast.

"Hi, you! let go!" yelled Dick, and then turning, he promptly sent his brother downward, so that Tom had to let go.

"Wish I had a plate of ice cream," murmured Sam, when they were all resting on the rail of the steam yacht. "Wouldn't it be fine?"

"Oxactly," came from Hans. "Ven I gits me to a hotel again I vos order a plate a foot high, mit vanilla, strawperry, chocolate, orange ice, lemon—"

"Don't, Hans!" cried Tom, reproachfully. "You hurt my feelings so!" And with a comical grin he placed one hand over his stomach. "Just think of strawberry ice cream!"

"Or strawberries with cream! My, but it makes a fellow's mouth water!" came from Sam.

The boys remained in and out of the water the best part of two hours. It was so inviting all hated to think of dressing again. They had a game of tag and kept poor Hans "it" for a long while, until, in fact, the German youth was out of breath and had to give it up.

"I ton't run me no more, py golly!" panted Hans. "Of you vonts to been caught you caught yourselfs alretty!" And at this remark all of the others roared.

"I shouldn't mind our situation a bit if only we were certain the others were safe," remarked Dick, when they were dressing. "But when I think of Fred, Songbird, and Harold Bird—" He did not finish, but shook his head sorrowfully.

"It makes a fellow sick, doesn't it?" returned Sam. "Oh, I do hope they are safe!"

"I'll tell you one thing," came from Tom, walking up at this moment. "This swim has made me as hungry as a bear."

"Tom, did you ever know the time you weren't hungry?" demanded his elder brother.

"Sure," answered the fun-loving Rover, with a broad grin.

"When?" demanded both of the others.

"Directly after a good, square meal!" answered Tom, and then dodged hurriedly, to escape the shoe Dick hurled at him.



CHAPTER XIX

THE STORM ON THE GULF

"Boys, we are going to have a corker of a storm if ever there was one."

"I believe you, Dick. My, how the black clouds are rolling up!"

"And just when we were doing so nicely too."

The three Rover boys had come to the deck in a bunch, directly after the bath and a hearty meal.

It was Dick who had noticed the black clouds rolling up so suddenly and had called the attention of the others.

"How kvick der veader can change," sighed Hans. "Ven ve vos in schwimming I dink it vos lofely for a veek, ain't it!"

The boys had a good fire under the boiler and had tested the engine, to find it now in good working order. From one of the new joints the steam bubbled the least bit, but not sufficiently to do any harm or cause alarm. Dick had tried the wheel, to find it in the best of order. It thrilled him to take hold of the spokes and make the steam yacht answer to his will.

"I don't wonder some men wish to be pilots," he had said. "It's great to have a big steamer do just as you want her to." Then he had run the vessel around in the form of the figure 8, just to "get the knack of it," as he said.

"Shall we start for land in such a storm as this?" asked Sam. "It might drive us up on the rocks somewhere."

"We're a good way from land, Sam. Let us see what the storm will do first."

The black clouds increased rapidly, until the whole sky was overcast. Then a strong wind sprang up and the gulf was covered with whitecaps as far as the eye could reach.

"It's coming!" cried Sam, as the big raindrops began to fall. "We may as well get out of the wet."

"I think I'll run before the storm," said Dick. "We must either do that or face it. The yacht is beginning to roil."

"Yah, I feel dot!" sighed Hans, who had begun to turn pale.

"Hans, are you getting seasick?" demanded Sam.

"I ton't know, put I clink me my stomach vos going inside owid alretty!"

"You're certainly seasick," said Dick, with a grin. "Better lie down for a while."

"Oh, my!" groaned the German youth, and rushed, first to the rail of the steam yacht and then to the cabin. He was indeed sick, and that was the last the others saw of him while the storm lasted.

Soon came a whistling wind and then the rain fell in torrents. The sea was lashed into a white foam and the waves became higher and higher, crashing against the stern of the Mermaid, as she ran before them. At one moment the steam yacht would be on the top of the waves, the next she would sink down and down in the trough of the sea.

"You don't think we'll be wrecked, do you?" asked Sam, as he left his duty as fireman and came to the wheelhouse, where Dick stood, with all the windows down, trying to peer forth through the fury of the elements.

"Not at all, Sam,—but this is something fierce and no mistake."

"Poor Hans is down and out. I heard him rolling on his berth and groaning with distress."

"Well, leave him alone. He'll be sick as long as the storm lasts, most likely, and you'll only make matters worse by looking at him."

With the coming of night the storm appeared to increase. It was pitch-black on every side and Dick did not dare to run the Mermaid at more than quarter speed—just enough to keep her from swinging around broadside to the storm. All the lanterns were lit and hung up, Sam doing this with an oilsilk coat around him—a garment found in one of the staterooms. Yet he came in pretty wet.

"It's a screamer," he announced to Tom, as he dried himself by the boiler. "Never knew they could have such storms down here."

"They have storms all over the world," answered Tom. "What is Dick doing?"

"Running before the wind."

"He just told me to slow down more yet."

"Well, he can't see a thing ahead and he doesn't want to run into anything."

"And Hans?"

"Down, the sickest ever."

"Too bad! I know what it is to be sick. Better leave him alone."

"That's what Dick said."

As but little steam was needed Sam had no call to urge on his fire beneath the boiler, and he and Tom sat down near the speaking tube, to talk occasionally to Dick.

Thus two hours went by. Nobody had the least desire to go to sleep, even though the long swim had made each boy rather tired. The fury of the elements made them nervous.

"This puts me in mind of the time we were on the Pacific," called down Dick through the speaking tube. He referred to the adventures they had had as related in "The Rover Boys on Land and Sea."

"Well, we don't want to be cast away on a lonely island as we were then," said Sam.

"There are no islands around here," answered Tom. "I looked on the chart to make sure."

"In that case we can't hit anything. I am thinking—"

"Back her!" yelled Dick, through the speaking tube, and then jingled the bell.

Tom leaped for the engine and reversed it. There was a pause, and they felt the steam yacht swing half around. Then, after a wait, Dick ordered the speed ahead.

"What was wrong?" asked Tom, at the tube.

"Light right ahead," was the answer. "We cleared it by fifty feet. But I was scared, I can tell you that."

"What kind of a light?"

"A steamer—tramp, I reckon. She's way behind now."

Sam ran on deck to get a view of the stranger, but the fury of the storm shut out the sight.

"I suppose you didn't see much of her, Dick," he said, going into the wheelhouse.

"I saw enough," was the grim response. "I thought we were going to have a smashup sure, and I reckon the other pilot thought the same."

"Did you see anybody on board?"

"Not a soul. She came up like a ghost, with only two lights showing, and by the time I had backed and turned she was gone. But it nearly gave me nervous collapse," added the amateur pilot.

The wind was now so heavy that it sent the rain against the pilot house in solid sheets. Dick could not see ahead at all and he requested Sam to go to the bow, to keep the best lookout possible.

"If you see anything wrong yell to me," he said. "And be careful that you don't tumble overboard." And then he spoke to Tom through the tube and asked the amateur engineer to play fireman also for the time being.

Wrapped in the raincoat, and with a cap pulled far down over his head, Sam took up his station near the bow, clinging to the rail for protection. He knew their safety depended in good part on keeping a sharp lookout and he eyed the darkness ahead closely. So far there had been little lightning and scarcely any thunder, but now the rumbling increased until there came a crash and a flare that made all on the Mermaid jump.

"Did that hit us?" yelled Tom up the tube.

"No, but it was pretty close," answered Dick,

"Where is Sam now?"

"At the forward rail. I can see nothing from the wheelhouse."

"If it gets much worse you had better come below and let the boat run itself, Dick."

"I can't do that, Tom—I must stick to my post."

Another half-hour went by, and there was no let up in the fury of the storm. Poor Sam was almost exhausted and, tying the wheel fast for the time being, Dick went to him.

"Better come in," he said. "If you'll take the wheel I'll stay out here. Just keep her straight before the storm."

"All right," panted poor Sam, and made his way back to the wheelhouse step by step, and holding on to whatever was handy, to keep from being swept overboard.

Sam had interested himself in steering from the start and knew how to handle a wheel moderately well. He looked at the compass and saw that they were running almost due east, varying a little to the southward. He untied the wheel and kept to the course with but little trouble.

"Dick has gone on the lookout," he explained to Tom. And then he added: "You've got the best job to-night."

"I'd come up, if you could run the engine," was Tom's reply.

"No, you had better attend to that, Tom."

"Doesn't the storm seem to be letting up?"

"Not a particle. If anything it is growing worse."

"It must be a hurricane."

"It is—or next door to it," answered the youngest of the Rovers.

The thunder and lightning appeared to draw closer, until the steam yacht was literally surrounded by the electrical display. The flashes of lightning were so blinding that, for the moment afterward, neither Sam nor Dick could see anything. Sam tried to keep the windows of the pilot house fairly clean, but the effort was a dismal failure.

Presently came one awful flash and crash that caused Sam to sink back in a heap on one of the pilot-house cushions. He felt that the steam yacht must have been struck and every nerve in his body tingled and quivered. Only after a strong effort was he able to pull himself together and clutch the wheel once more.

"Dick must have felt that," he murmured. "I wish—"

Another flash of lightning, but less vivid, interrupted his meditations. He looked out of the front window towards where Dick had been standing. Then he gave a cry of alarm.

His big brother had disappeared!



CHAPTER XX

A NIGHT OF ANXIETY

Had the lightning struck Dick and knocked him overboard?

Such was the terrifying question which Sam asked himself as he stared out of the pilothouse window into the darkness before him. Another flash of lightning lit up the scene and he made certain that his big brother was nowhere in sight.

"Tom! Tom!" he yelled down the tube, frantically.

"What now, Sam?"

"Dick is gone—struck by lightning, I guess. Come up!"

At this alarming information Tom left the engine room at a bound and came on deck almost as soon as it can be told. He met Sam running toward the bow.

"Where was Dick?" he screamed, to make himself heard above the roaring and shrieking of the wind.

"At the forward rail, on the lookout. He was standing there just before that awful crash came, and I haven't seen him since."

No more was said by either, but holding fast to whatever came to hand, the two Rovers worked their way forward until they reached the rail where Dick had been standing. They now saw that the foretopmast had come down, hitting the rail and breaking it loose for a distance of several feet.

"The mast must have hit Dick and knocked him overboard," said Tom, with a quiver in his voice.

"Oh, Tom!" Sam could say no more, but his heart sank.

The two boys stared around helplessly, not knowing what to do. Dick was very dear to them and they could not bear to think that he was lost, and forever.

Suddenly, as another flash of lightning lit up the scene, Sam caught sight of something dark lying just a few feet away. He rushed over, to see Dick lying in a heap, his head under his forearm.

"Dick! Dick!" he cried. "Are you killed?"

There was no answer, and now both Tom and Sam knelt beside their brother and raised him up. His face was pale and the blood was flowing from a cut over the left temple.

"The topmast hit him when it came down," said Tom. "Let us carry him to the cabin."

They raised their brother up and, not without difficulty, took him to the companionway and down to the cabin. Here they placed him on the couch and Sam got some water and bathed his wounded forehead. They saw he was not dead but unconscious from the blow received.

"I must look to the engine,—I don't want the Mermaid to blow up," said Tom, and rushed off,—to get back in less than three minutes. By this time Dick was gasping and groaning, and soon he opened his eyes.

"Dick," said Sam, softly. "Don't worry, you are safe."

"Sam! Th—the mast came down on m—me!"

"We know it. We found you in a heap on the deck. I was afraid you had been knocked overboard. It was that awful flash of lightning did it, I think."

"Yes."

Dick could say little more just then and did not try. Sam and Tom made him as comfortable as possible and found he had suffered only from the fall of the topmast and not the lightning stroke itself.

"If Hans felt a little better he might look after Dick, but he is still as sick as ever," said Tom. "He declares we are all going to the bottom and he doesn't care if we do!"

"That's the way with folks who are real seasick," answered Sam. "They feel so utterly miserable they don't care what happens."

Leaving Dick on the couch in the cabin, Sam returned to the wheelhouse and Tom to the engine room. The steam yacht had been drifting and the waves were dashing over a portion of her deck. As quickly as possible Sam brought the craft around and now headed her up to the storm, which made her ride better than ever.

For some reason neither Sam nor Tom thought of the disagreeableness of the situation after that. Both were overjoyed to think that Dick had escaped serious injury. The foretopmast lay on the forward deck still, but as it was not in the way it was allowed to remain there for the time being.

Thus the whole of the night wore away, and with the coming of morning the storm gradually died down. But the waves still ran high and it was noon ere the sun came out, to cheer them up.

"I am thankful that is over," said Sam, breathing a deep sigh of relief. "I never want to go through such a night again."

"Nor I," answered Tom. "It takes all the fun out of a chap."

Dick got up, a handkerchief tied around his forehead. He still felt a trifle weak but that was all.

"I will take the wheel," he said to Sam. "If you want to do something you can get breakfast—and be sure and make plenty of hot coffee, for we need it to make us less sleepy."

As the storm went down, Hans came forth from his stateroom, pale and so woebegone that Tom had to turn away to hide a smile.

"Vos dot storm ofer alretty?" asked Hans, sinking in a chair.

"Just about," answered Dick.

"Oh, such a night, Dick! I ton't forgot him of I lif a dousand years, ain't it!"

"We shan't forget it either, Hans."

"Dick, I durn me insides owit more as fifty dimes, yes!" went on the German youth, earnestly.

"We've had our own troubles too," said the eldest Rover, and then related what had occurred. Hans was glad Dick had escaped falling overboard but was still too weak to take a great deal of interest.

The wheel was lashed fast and the engine slowed down, and all hands went to breakfast. It was by no means an elaborate meal, yet it made all but Hans feel much better. The German youth had little appetite and ate sparingly.

"Der kvicker ve git py land on der besser vill I like him," said he.

"Maybe you won't be seasick after such a dose," said Sam, hopefully.

During the night all of the Rovers had become more or less soaked and they were anxious to find a complete change of clothing, so that their own might be thoroughly dried.

"Sam, you can hunt around for some things," said Dick. "I'll go back to the wheel and you, Tom, had better go back to the engine. Hans, will you help Sam?"

"Sure I vill dot," answered the German boy.

Sam knew where there were several lockers containing both outer clothing and underwear and he proceeded to these, followed by Hans. They soon had one locker open and hauled forth what it contained.

"This underwear will about fit Dick and Tom," he said. "It's rather big for me, though."

"Vell, maype der udder closets got someding schmaller in dem," suggested Hans, and opened up a second locker.

Here they found a variety of things, including socks, shoes, collars, cuffs, and even fancy neckties.

"Whoever was on board of this steam yacht left everything behind him when he went away," was the comment of the youngest Rover.

They next opened a locker filled with outer clothing, including linen coats and panama hats. As the weather was growing warmer this just suited the boys.

"Hello, here is a pretty big suit," observed Sam, hauling it forth and holding it up. "The man who wore that must have been a pretty large fellow. Even Dick would get lost in that suit."

"Dot's so!" exclaimed Hans. "Vait, I try on dot coats. Ha! Ha! Ain't he schmall alretty!" And Hans began to roar, for the coat came to his knees and the sleeves hid his hands from sight.

"You've got to grow, Hans, before you can fill that," said Sam, laughing.

"Vell, maype I grow some day."

"You will if you eat plenty of sauerkraut and Limburger cheese," and Sam grinned broadly.

"I vos eat vot I blease, Sam Rofer!"

Hans took off the coat and in doing so turned the garment over. From out of one of the pockets there fell a flat cardcase of red morocco leather.

"Hello, you've dropped something, Hans."

"So I tit," answered the German youth, and flinging aside the coat he picked up the leather cardcase.

"Has it got any cards in it?" questioned Sam, with sudden interest.

"Dot vos vot I vos going to see. Now vait, I vill oben him," went on Hans, backing away as the youngest Rover reached out for the case.

"Well, do hurry, Hans! You are so slow!" cried Sam, impatiently.

"Vot's der use of hurrying ven you got lots of dime, hey?"

"I want to see what is in the case."

"Maype der tont been noddings in him."

"Hans, will you open it, please?"

"Yah."

"Well, then, do so."

With great deliberation the German youth opened the leather cardcase. Out of it fluttered a small card photograph. Sam picked it up, gave one look, and let out a cry of astonishment.

"Well, I never!"



CHAPTER XXI

THE PICTURE IN THE CARDCASE

"Who is it?" questioned Hans, trying to gain possession of the photograph, but instead of answering Sam started from the cabin.

"I must show this to Dick and Tom!" he cried. "Come along."

"Yah, put—" began the German boy, and then stopped, for there was nobody to talk to, Sam being already out of sight.

"Dick, look what I found," cried the youngest Rover, as he dashed into the pilot house.

"A fortune?" asked Dick, with a smile.

"No, a picture. Just look!"

Dick did as requested and gave a start.

"You found this on the yacht?" he cried. "Yes. In the pocket of a big coat hanging in one of the lockers. It was in a cardcase."

"This is certainly queer. It looks exactly like Harold Bird, doesn't it?"

"It certainly is Harold. I wonder—Oh, look!"

Sam had turned the picture over. On the back were these words, written in a strong, masculine hand:

To father, from Harold. Merry Xmas!

"Why, Harold must have given this to his father," said Dick, thoughtfully.—"And if so—"

"Do you think the coat belonged to Mr. Bird?" broke in Sam.

"Perhaps. Did you find anything else?"

"Ve titn't look," came from Hans, who stood in the doorway. "So dot vos a picture of Harold Pird, alretty! Dot vos kveer!"

"It is astonishing," said Dick. "Sam, see if you can find anything else."

Sam went back and Hans with him, and while they were gone Dick, through the speaking tube, acquainted Tom with the discovery made.

"Maybe Mr. Bird was on this steam yacht," called up Tom.

Sam and Hans went over the stuff in the lockers with care. They found some cards bearing the name of James Morrison and a short note about a meeting of a yacht club addressed to Barton Knox.

"Those men must have been on the Mermaid," said Sam. "Perhaps they were part owners. Frequently several men or a whole club own a yacht like this in common."

"Vell, she ton't vos a common poat," was Hans' comment. "She vos a peauty."

Sam was on the point of giving up the search when he saw something sticking from a crack next to the wall. He pulled the object forth and saw it was the photograph of a big, heavy-set man with rather a handsome face. He turned it over and gave a short gasp, for on the back was written in pencil:

Sharwell Lee Bird, Murderer.

"What a horrible thing to write!" murmured the youngest Rover. "It makes a fellow shiver to read it!"

"Of he killed dot man ven he vos hunting he vos sure a murderer, Sam."

"Not exactly, Hans; he didn't mean to shoot the fellow. It was accidental."

"Yah, put der mans vos teat, ain't it!"

"Yes, and the death of the poor fellow drove Mr. Bird insane. I must show this to Dick, and to Tom, too."

Sam took the second picture, and all on board the steam yacht discussed the discovery for some time. But they could reach no conclusion saving that Mr. Bird had likely been on the vessel at one time and had left his coat and the two pictures behind him.