Immediately Crossgrove informed Frank that his yacht lay in the harbor, and, as he was bound toward waters in the vicinity of Fairhaven, he would hoist anchor without delay. Frank was ready to accept the steel man’s hospitality on the _Sachem_. “You and I have had some dealings in the past, Mr. Merriwell,” said Crossgrove, “and I deem it a privilege to have you and your friends as guests.” “But I must arrive in Fairhaven to-morrow in time to witness a game of baseball in the afternoon,” said Frank. “My brother is down there running a ball team, and the game to-morrow finishes the season. I wouldn’t miss it for anything, Mr. Crossgrove. Do you think you can land us there all right?” “Without question I will have you in Fairhaven in time for that ball game,” nodded the millionaire. “It will be a much more comfortable and satisfactory way of making the trip. By rail, at this season, it’s hot, and dusty, and disagreeable. Come, come, Merriwell, my boy, I won’t take no for an answer.” “Then it’ll be yes,” laughed Frank. In this manner it was arranged, and Frank and his friends were on the _Sachem_ when the yacht steamed out of Boston harbor at evening. The trip had proved most enjoyable, but now Frank seemed somewhat worried and restless. As he stood near the rail he frequently glanced at his watch. Inza noticed this, and in a low tone she said: “It will be too bad, Frank, if you don’t get there in time. I know how much you want to see the game.” “Hush!” said Merry, forcing a slight smile. “If we don’t arrive in time for the game, we’ll not let Crossgrove know how disappointed we are. He’s a fine gentleman and a thoroughbred, and I wouldn’t wish him to think for a moment that he had disappointed us through his generous hospitality.” “I say,” cried Harry Rattleton, “isn’t it great to be on the sounding bee—I mean the bounding sea? Why, even the air out here is full of wind!” “So are you,” grunted Browning, who was lazily sprawled on a comfortable chair and puffing away at a brierwood pipe. “The hot air you’ve been giving us for the past hour is getting a little tiresome, Rattles. Can’t you close your face and let me rest?” “Why don’t you do your neeping slights—I mean your sleeping nights?” inquired Harry. “I don’t believe you ever wake up any more. You’ve been in a trance for the last few hours.” “On the occasion when I last met him before our meeting in Boston yesterday morning,” said Merriwell, “he was pretty wide-awake. It was at a little railroad town down in the Southwest. Hodge, Wiley, and I were passing through that town when we saw a chap beset by a dozen burly ruffians. Evidently they were trying to lynch him. He was a big fellow, and he knocked them right and left with tremendous blows. It was Hodge who recognized him, I believe. Bruce Browning was the fellow, and he was very wide-awake on that occasion.”