“Yes, you are, sir,” answered the official bouncer; “you’ll have to get downstream.”
The boys listened to this dispute, which was within a few feet of them, with a good deal of curiosity, for there is nothing so interesting as an altercation in a public place, when suddenly there was a frantic waving from the deck of the yacht.
“Why, there’s Miss Crosby!” exclaimed Gordon.
They waved their caps to her, and she suddenly disappeared. Evidently, she had issued her orders, for the yacht, in utter defiance of rules and regulations, was brought alongside a neighboring pier, and the crowd, no doubt much impressed with its gorgeous appearance, for it was a glittering combination of white and brass, opened to let the two boys pass down and go aboard.
“The idea!” said Miss Crosby, as she greeted them. “I never knew such downright tyranny! That’s the only thing to call it! They seem to think they own the lake!”
“I’m afraid it looks as if we thought that,” said a genial voice, and the boys turned in surprise to see Mr. Danforth coming toward them with outstretched hand. “But we couldn’t pass right by you. Miss Crosby said—”
“Oh, I never said anything of the kind!”
“He probably just deduced it,” laughed Harry, “whatever it was.”
Mr. Danforth chuckled; he had evidently heard about their “deducing.” “Well,” said he, cheerily, “who’s going to win the race?”
“We don’t even know the program,” said Harry. “We just dropped into town.”