The boys were charmed with the view of Belfast obtained from the water. The city is built on a slope, and is embowered in trees, the houses and cottages showing amid the green mass of foliage. Here and there could be seen the tall spires of churches. The handsome residence of the mayor on Northport Avenue could be plainly seen, as it was situated in a sightly place overlooking the harbor and the bay. Several vessels were on the stocks in the shipyards, and the sound of hammering could be heard, while crews of men were seen busily working about them. The harbor was filled with shipping. Lying at her wharf, taking on freight and passengers, was the Boston boat, _City of Bangor_, bound for the “Hub.” “Where will you anchor, Frank?” asked Bart Hodge, approaching Merry. “Beyond the steamboat wharf where that fleet of small boats and yachts are anchored.” Clang-clang! clang-clang! The bell on the steamer suddenly rang, and Frank knew what the signal meant. “She is going to swing off from the wharf,” he said. “It is high water, so I will hold inshore and let her go outside.” The steamer’s paddle wheels began to revolve, and she swung round at the southern end of the wharf, straining at the huge cable that held and turned her. It took some time for her to turn, but a sudden toot from her whistle told that at last she was ready to go ahead. Then the cable was flung off and the great boat glided down the harbor. A stream of teams and human beings were leaving the wharf and climbing the hill into the city, but on the wharf remained a group of young men and boys, all dressed in bicycle suits. They seemed to be watching the _White Wings_ with remarkable interest. “Wonder why those cyclists are watching us?” said Diamond. “I was wondering about the same thing,” admitted Frank. Then a youth was seen to climb on the piles at the corner of the wharf. He stood up straight and cried: “Ahoy, the yacht!” “Ay! ay!” answered Frank, giving the wheel over to Hodge. “Is that the _White Wings_?” Those on the wharf could not see the name on the stern of the yacht. “It is.” “Frank Merriwell in command?” “Yes, sir.” “Are you going to stop at Belfast?” “We are.” “Then the Belfast Wheelmen will be honored to entertain Mr. Merriwell while he remains in our city. Will he be kind enough to come ashore as soon as possible? If so, we will wait here for him.” “Great Scott!” muttered Frank. “How did they know I was coming? This is too much! They made it altogether too interesting for me at Camden and Rockland, and it begins to look as if there is to be a repetition of it here. I’d rather not be known at all.” “But you can’t help it now,” said Hodge, who was proud of Frank’s fame and popularity. “It won’t do to refuse their polite offer.” “Don’t refuse,” grunted Browning. “They’ll have something good to eat.” “Py shimminy!” gurgled Hans. “Dot peen vot you vant. I vos hungry enough to ead a raw tog alretty.”