“You dreamed it, young man—you dreamed it!” exclaimed Cobb. “Why, such things do not happen around here! I have seen boys like you before. I’ve seen boys who tried to kick up excitement by telling wild and improbable yarns.” Instantly Arlington’s rage flamed up. “I have seen old fools like you before!” he snarled. “They call you the mayor of this little one-horse town, do they? Well, you look it! You’re a great man for the place!” At first Cobb had been astounded, but now his face flushed, and he shook his finger at Chet. “You insulting young rascal!” he exclaimed. “How dare you use such language to me?” “Bah!” said the boy, shrugging his shoulders. “Who’s afraid of you? I played on the Maplewood baseball team, and I know Benton Hammerswell. I told you the truth about him.” “Yes, yes,” said Mr. Cobb, “you did play on that ball team—that’s right! You’re not on it now, are ye?” “No.” “Yes, yes; mad with Hammerswell, I take it? Sore because he threw you off the team? Want to make trouble for him, I see. That’s your game, boy! That’s your reason for coming to me and telling me such preposterous yarns! Look here, you young reprobate, you had better take yourself out of Fairhaven as quick as you can! We don’t want such chaps on the island!” “Oh, I’ll get off your old island!” snarled Chester. “Certainly there are more chumps to the square yard on this island than I ever beheld before, and you’re the king of them all. Good morning!” Although the village mayor felt like rushing after the insulting chap and giving him a good caning, he contented himself in glaring at Chet’s back until he disappeared. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XX ON BOARD THE “_SACHEM_.” The sun had swung into the western sky. Under full steam the big white yacht _Sachem_ was headed toward the northeast. The yacht was owned by Henry Crossgrove, the steel magnate, and on board was gathered a large party of his friends, several of whom were enjoying the sunshine and the sea breeze on the main deck. Of those on deck, five persons are especially interesting to us. The handsome chap in the yachting costume who frequently bent over a beautiful girl seated at his side and spoke with her in low tones was Frank Merriwell, Dick’s brother. The girl was Inza Burrage. Not far away, in a little triangular group, were Bruce Browning and Harry Rattleton, Frank’s old Yale comrades, and Elsie Bellwood. It was no mere chance that had brought them together. Frank had planned it, but in the first place his purpose had been to proceed by rail to Rockford and cross on one of the regular boats to Fairhaven Island. In Boston, after having gathered his party ready for the start, Merry encountered Henry Crossgrove, and happened to mention he contemplated making the trip.