# The Rover Boys in Southern Waters/Chapter 17

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 south-east 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."
"Veil, 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 far-away toot of a fog-horn, 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., well 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!"