--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