The steamer had crossed the Sea of Marmora and entered the Bosporus. It was approaching Constantinople. On the right lay Asia, on the left Europe. Either shore was lined with beautiful mosques and palaces, the fairylike towers and minarets gleaming in the sunshine. The deck was crowded with people eagerly gazing on the bewitching scene. From that point of view it was a land of enchantment, strange, mysterious, fascinating. Shipping from all quarters of the globe lay in the splendid harbor. Among the crowd on deck were two boys who were making a European tour in charge of Professor Zenas Gunn, of the Fardale Military Academy, from which one of the students had been unjustly expelled. This was Dick Merriwell, the younger brother of the former great Yale athlete and scholar, Frank Merriwell. With Dick was his chum and former roommate at Fardale, Bradley Buckhart, of Texas. "What do you think of it, Brad?" asked Dick, placing a hand on the shoulder of his comrade, who was leaning on the rail and staring at the bewildering panorama. Buckhart drew a deep breath. "Pard," he answered, "she beats my dreams a whole lot. I certain didn't allow that the country of the 'unspeakable Turk' could be half as beautiful." "Wait until we get on shore before you form an opinion," laughed Dick. "It certainly is beautiful from here, but I have reasons to believe that things will not seem so beautiful on closer inspection." "Then I opine I don't care to land " exclaimed Brad. "I'd like to remember her just as she looks now." "Hum ha " broke in another voice. "I don't blame you, my boy. Isn't she beautiful Isn't she wonderful Isn't she ravishing " "All of that, professor," agreed the Texan.