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.