the Zephyr had been stolen!

"What does it mean, Uncle Ben?" he asked, in deep anxiety.

"I can't tell you, Frank; only, as you say, it has been stolen. It
couldn't have broken adrift."

"Of course not; and one of the windows is open."

"That accounts for it," replied Uncle Ben, as he walked down the
boat-house and looked out upon the lake. "I will take the Sylph and
hunt it up."

"Let me go with you, Uncle Ben."

"My eyes! but the Sylph is gone too!" exclaimed the veteran, as he
perceived the moorings afloat where she usually lay.

"Strange, isn't it?"

Uncle Ben scratched his head, and did not know what to make of it.

"Here comes Tony, running with all his might," continued Frank. "What's
the matter, Tony?"

"Somebody has stolen the Butterfly!" gasped Tony, out of breath."

"And the Zephyr and the Sylph!"

Several of the members of the club now arrived, and the matter was