stared in amazement at the sight before them.

On board the Black Growler were at least a half-dozen men and it
required no explanation to enable the boys to understand that
they were a part of the noisy assembly which had made night
hideous in the hotel.

"Here," called Fred, running ahead of his companions. "What are
you doing in that boat?"

"Who are you?" demanded one of the occupants, turning and facing
Fred as he spoke.

"That's my boat," declared Fred.

"You don't say so!" replied the man in shrill tones, at which his
companions laughed loudly.

For a moment Fred stopped and stared blankly at the men, who had
apparently made themselves fully at home on board his motor-boat.
The awnings had been taken in and the self-invited guests had
been examining various parts of the fleet little craft.

"Did you ever hear," continued the spokesman, "that possession is
nine points of the law and that the tenth isn't worth fighting
about? Maybe we'll ask you to prove that this boat is yours.
According to the records of my private secretary this here yacht
is mine. I'm goin' on a cruise up to Buffalo and I have invited a
few o' my pals to come along with me."