its
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