Steve leaned over the rail and sent a hail across. “Follow Me, ahoy!” he called.  “We’ll trouble you for that boat, please.”

For a moment there was no answer.  Then one of the two men in sight moved forward and drawled:  “Speaking to us, are you?  What was it you said?”

“I said we’d trouble you for that boat,” repeated Steve.  “It happens to belong to us, you see.”

“This boat?”

“That identical boat.”

“Belongs to you!”

“You’ve got it.”

“That’s a good joke, friend.  We’ve owned this boat three years.  Where do you come in?”

“She’s the Follow Me, even if you have painted her name out, and you took her from her anchorage in Plymouth Harbour last night.  What’s the use of throwing a fool bluff like that?”

The man laughed hoarsely and his companion joined him.  “Run away, kids!” he said finally.  “You’re crazy with the heat.  This boat’s the Esmeralda, of Providence, and she belongs to me and this feller.  What do you mean, took her?  Callin’ me a thief, are you?”

“I’m not taking the trouble to.  If you know what’s good for you you’ll dig out of there and do it quick.”

“Is that so?” drawled the man.  “Well, ain’t that nice?  An’ supposin’ it don’t suit me to hand over my boat to you?  Then what you goin’ to do?”

“Take her,” answered Steve quietly.  “There are twelve of us here and we’ve followed you all the way from Plymouth, and we aren’t likely to let you bluff us off now.  Come on, now, what do you say?”

“Come on and take her, kids!” was the answer.  “We’re scared to death!” The men thought that extremely funny, and laughed a lot over it.  Just then, Steve, leaning outboard over the railing, felt someone tug at his arm.

“Look at the middle port, Steve,” whispered Phil.

Steve looked.  The nearer side of the Follow Me was in shadow, but a quivering beam of sunlight, reflected from the surface of the water, glinted on the muzzle of a revolver held just inside the open port.

“Every fellow under cover,” said Steve quietly.  “That means you, too, Joe.  Duck!  They’ve got a gun trained on us.  Who’s the best shot here?”

“Wink,” answered Joe.

“Give him one of the revolvers.  Are you there, Wink?”

“Yes,” answered the other from the forward companion way.

“Get a bead on that middle port.  You’ll see a gun sticking through there.  Don’t shoot unless they shoot first.  Better go into the other cabin.  There’s no harm in letting them see you, but don’t keep your head exposed.  Someone hand me that other revolver.”

On the other boat Steve’s silence was accepted as a confession of indecision and a jeering laugh came across the water.  The Adventurer was drifting toward the shore now, and Steve turned and slipped the clutch into reverse and churned back a few yards.  Then he faced the men again.