E-text prepared by W. R. Marvin

THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP

Or, The Rivals of Pine Island

by

Arthur M. Winfield

1904

INTRODUCTION

My Dear Boys: "The Rover Boys in Camp" is a complete story in itself, but forms the eighth volume of "The Rover Boys Series for Young Americans."

As I have mentioned before, when I started this line of stories I had in mind to make not more than three, or possibly four, volumes. But the publication of "Rover Boys at School," "Rover Boys on the Ocean," "Rover Boys in the Jungle," and "Rover Boys Out West" did not appear to satisfy my readers, and so I followed with "Rover Boys on the Great Lakes," "Rover Boys in the Mountains," and lastly with "Rover Boys on Land and Sea." But the publishers say there is still a cry for "more! more!" and so I now present to you this new Rover Boys book, which relates the adventures of Dick, Tom, and Sam, and a number of their old-time friends, at home, at dear old Putnam Hall, and in camp on Pine Island.

In writing this tale I have had in mind two thoughts—one to give my young readers an out-and-out story of jolly summer adventure, along with a little touch of mystery, and the other to show them that it very often pays to return good for evil. Arnold Baxter had done much to bring trouble to the Rover family, but what Dick Rover did in return was Christian-like in the highest meaning of that term. Dick was not a "goody-goody" youth, but he was a thoroughly manly one, and his example is well worth following by any lad who wishes to make something of himself.

Once more let me thank all of those who have expressed themselves as satisfied with the previous stories in this series. I earnestly trust the present volume will also prove acceptable to them, and will do them good.

Affectionately and sincerely yours,

ARTHUR M. WINFIELD.

CONTENTS

     I. The Rover Boys at Home
    II. News of Interest
   III. A Midnight Visitor
    IV. A Useless Pursuit
     V. On the Way to Putnam Hall
    VI. Fun on the Boat
   VII. Something About the Military Academy
  VIII. A Scene in the Gymnasium
    IX. Settling Down to Study
     X. An Adventure in Cedarville
    XI. A Quarrel and it Results
   XII. The Election for Officers
  XIII. The Fight at the Boathouse
   XIV. Getting Ready for the Encampment
    XV. On the March to the Camp
   XVI. The First Day on Pine Island
  XVII. The Enemy Plot Mischief
 XVIII. Hazers at Work
   XIX. A Storm in Camp
    XX. The Rover Boys and the Ball
   XXI. A Tug of War
  XXII. A Swim and Some Snakes
 XXIII. A Glimpse of an Old Enemy
  XXIV. More Rivalry
   XXV. Winning the Contests
  XXVI. Sam Shows What He Can Do
 XXVII. A Prisoner of the Enemy
XXVIII. Dick's Midnight Adventure
  XXIX. True Heroism
   XXX. Turning a New Leaf—Conclusion

CHAPTER I

THE ROVER BOYS AT HOME

"All out for Oak Run!" shouted the brakeman of the train, as he thrust his head in through the doorway of the car. "Step lively, please!"

"Hurrah for home!" shouted a curly-headed youth of sixteen, as he caught up a small dress-suit case. "Come on, Sam."

"I'm coming, Tom," answered a boy a year younger. "Where is Dick?"

"Here I am," replied Dick Rover, the big brother of the others. "Just been in the baggage car, making sure the trunks would be put off," he added. "Say, but this looks natural, doesn't it, after traveling thousands of miles across the Pacific?"

"And across the Continent from San Francisco," put in Sam Rover.

"Do you know, I feel as if I'd been away for an age?"

"It's what we've gone through with that makes you feel that way, Sam," came from Tom Rover. "Just think of being cast away on a lonely island like Robinson Crusoe! Why, half the folks won't believe our story when they hear it."

"They'll have to believe it." Sam hopped down to the depot platform, followed by the others. "Wonder if the folks got that telegram I forwarded from Buffalo?"

"They must have, for there is Jack with the big carriage," said Tom, and walked over to the turnout he mentioned. "Hullo, Jack!" he called out. "How is everybody?"

"Master Tom!" ejaculated Jack Ness, the Rovers' hired man. "Back at last, are you, an' safe an' sound?"

"Sound as a dollar, Jack. How are the folks?"

"Your father is putty well, and so is your Uncle Randolph. Your Aunt Martha got so excited a-thinkin' you was coming hum she got a headache."

"Dear Aunt Martha!" murmured Tom. "I'll soon cure her of that." He turned to his brothers. "What shall we do about the trunks? We can't take 'em in the carriage."

"Aleck is comin' for them boxes," said the hired man. "There's his wagon now."

A box wagon came dashing up to the depot platform, with a tall, good-looking colored man on the seat. The eyes of the colored man lit up with pleasure when he caught sight of the boys.

"Well! well! well!" he ejaculated, leaping down and rushing forward. "Heah yo' are at las', bless you! I'se been dat worried 'bout yo' I couldn't 'most sleep fo' t'ree nights. An' jess to t'ink yo' was cast away on an island in de middle of dat Pacific Ocean! It's a wonder dem cannonballs didn't eat yo' up."

"Thanks, but we didn't meet any 'cannonballs,' Aleck, I am thankful to say," replied Dick Rover. "Our greatest trouble was with some mutineers who got drunk and wanted to run things to suit themselves. They might have got the best of us, but a warship visited the island just in the nick of time and rescued us."

"So I heared out ob dat letter wot yo' writ yo' father. An' to t'ink dat Miss Dora Stanhope and de Laning gals was wrecked wid yo'! It's wonderful!"

"It certainly was strange, Aleck. But, come, I am anxious to get home.
Here are the trunk checks," and Dick passed the brasses over.

In a moment more the three boys had entered the carriage, along with
Jack Ness. Tom insisted on driving, and away they went at a spanking
gait, over Swift River, through the little village of Dexter's
Corners, and then out on the road that led to Valley Brook farm.

As my old readers know, the Rover boys were three in number, as already introduced. They were the sons of Anderson Rover, a well-to-do gentleman, who was now living in retirement at Valley Brook, in company with his brother Randolph, and the latter's wife, Martha.

While Anderson Rover had been on a hunt for gold in the heart of Africa, the three boys had been sent by their Uncle Randolph to a military academy known as Putnam Hall. Here they made many friends and also a few enemies, the worst of the latter being Dan Baxter, a bully who wanted his way in everything. Baxter was the offspring of a family of low reputation, and his father, Arnold Baxter, was now in prison for various misdeeds.

The first term at school had been followed by an exciting chase on the ocean, after which the boys had gone with their uncle to the jungles of Africa, in a search after Anderson Rover. After the parent was found it was learned that Arnold Baxter was trying to swindle the Rovers out of a valuable gold mine in the far West, but this plot, after some exciting adventures, was nipped in the bud.

The trip West had tired the boys, and they hailed an outing on the Great Lakes with delight. During this outing they learned something about a treasure located in the heart of the Adirondack Mountains, and the next winter visited the locality and unearthed a box containing gold, silver, and precious stones, worth several thousands of dollars. During this treasure-hunt Dan Baxter did his best to bring the Rover boys to grief, but without success.

After the winter in the Adirondacks, the boys had expected to return at once to Putnam Hall to continue their studies. But three pupils were taken down with scarlet fever, and the academy was promptly closed by the master, Captain Victor Putnam.

"That gives us another holiday," Tom had said. "Let us put in the time by traveling," and, later on, it was decided that the boys should visit California for their health. This they did, and in the seventh volume of this series, entitled "The Rover Boys on Land and Sea," I related the particulars of how they were carried off to sea during a violent storm, in company with three of their old-time girl friends, Dora Stanhope and her cousins, Nellie and Grace Laning. It may be mentioned here that Dick thought Dora Stanhope the sweetest girl in the world, and Tom and Sam were equally smitten with Nellie and Grace Laning.

Being cast away on the Pacific was productive of additional adventures and surprises. On a ship that picked the girls and boys up they fell in again with Dan Baxter, and he did all in his power to make trouble for them. When all were cast away on a deserted island, Dan Baxter joined some mutineers among the sailors, and there was a fight which threatened to end seriously for our friends. But as luck would have it, a United States warship hove into sight, and from that moment the boys and girls, and the friends, who had stuck to them through thick and thin, were safe.

Before the warship left the island a search was made for Dan Baxter and for those who had mutinied with him. But the bully and his evil-minded followers kept out of sight, and so they were left behind to shift for themselves.

"Do you think that we will ever see Dan Baxter again?" Sam had questioned.

"I hardly think so," had been Dick's reply. But in this surmise the elder Rover boy was mistaken, as later events will prove.

The journey across the Pacific to San Francisco was accomplished without incident. As soon as the Golden Gate was reached the boys, and also the girls, sent telegrams to their folks, telling them that all was well.

Mrs. Stanhope was staying at Santa Barbara for her health. All of the girls had been stopping with her, and now it was decided that Dora, Nellie, and Grace should go to her again.

"It's too bad we must part," Dick had said, as he squeezed Dora's hand. "But you are coming East soon, aren't you?"

"In a month or two, yes. And what will you do?"

"Go back to Putnam Hall most likely—if the scarlet fever scare is over."

"Then we'll be likely to see you again before long," and Dora smiled her pleasure.

"It will be like old times to get back to the Hall again," Sam had put in. "But first, I want to go home and see the folks."

"Right you are," had come from Tom. "I reckon they are dead anxious to see us, too."

And so they had parted, with tight hand-squeezing and bright smiles that meant a good deal. One train had taken the girls southward to Santa Barbara, and another had taken the boys eastward to Denver and to Chicago. At the latter city the lads had made a quick change, and twenty-six hours later found them at Oak Run, and in the carriage for the farm.

CHAPTER II

NEWS OF INTEREST

"My boys! my boys!"

Such was the cry given by Anderson Rover, when he caught sight of the occupants of the carriage, as the turnout swept up to the piazza of the comfortable farm home.

   "Home again! Home again
   Safe from a foreign shore!"

sang out Tom, and leaping to the ground, he caught his father around the shoulders. "Aren't you glad to see us, father?" he went on.

"Glad doesn't express it, Tom," replied the fond parent, as he embraced first one and then another. "My heart is overflowing with joy, and I thank God that you have returned unharmed, after having passed through so many grave perils. How brown all of you look!"

"Tanned by the tropical sun," answered Sam. "Oh, here is Aunt Martha, and Uncle Randolph!"

"Sam!" burst out the motherly aunt, as she kissed him. "Oh, how you must have suffered on that lonely island!" And then she kissed the others.

"We've certainly had our fill of adventures," came from Dick, who was shaking hands with his Uncle Randolph. "And more than once we thought we should never see Valley Brook farm again."

"We were real Robinson Crusoes," went on Sam. "And the girls were
Robinson Crusoes, too."

"Are the girls well?" questioned Mrs. Rover.

"Very well, auntie. If they hadn't been we shouldn't have parted with them in San Francisco. They went back to Santa Barbara to finish their vacation."

"I see. Well, it certainly was a wonderful trip. You'll have to tell us all the particulars this evening. I suppose you are as hungry as bears just now. Tom is, I'm sure."

"Oh, Aunt Martha, I see you haven't forgotten my failing," piped in the youth mentioned, with a twinkle in his eye. "And do I get pie for dinner?"

"Yes, Tom, and all you care to eat, too. We are going to make your home-coming a holiday."

"Good!"

They were soon in the house, every nook and corner of which was so familiar to them. They rushed up to their rooms, and, after a brushing and a washing up, came down to the big dining room, where the table fairly groaned with good things.

"Gosh! this is a regular Christmas spread!" observed Tom, as he looked the table over. "Tell you what, Aunt Martha, I'm going to be cast away every week after this."

"Oh, Tom, don't speak of it! After this you must stay right here. Neither your father nor your uncle nor myself will want to leave you out of sight."

"Pooh! We can't stay home. But we'll be careful of our trips in the future, you can be sure of that."

"Have you heard anything about Putnam Hall since we went away?" asked
Dick, during the meal.

"The academy opened again last week, Dick," answered his father. "We received a circular letter from Captain Putnam. The scarlet fever scare did not amount to much, for which the captain is very thankful."

"I sent him a telegram, stating we were safe," said Sam. "I knew he would like to hear from us. The captain is a brick."

"The best ever," said Tom, with his mouth full of chicken.

"And ditto, Mr. Strong," put in Dick, referring to the head assistant at the Hall.

"Exactly, Dick. But no more Jasper Grinders in mine," went on Tom, referring to a tyrannical teacher who had caused them much trouble, and who had been discharged from the academy, as already mentioned in "The Rover Boys in the Mountains."

"Or Josiah Crabtrees," said Dick, referring to another teacher, who had been made to leave Putnam Hall, and who had wanted to marry the widow Stanhope, in an endeavor to get control of the money that was coming to Dora. Crabtree's misdeeds had landed him in prison, where he was likely to stay for some time to come.

While the meal was still in progress the boys began the recital of their many adventures, and this recital was kept up until a late hour. It was astonishing how much they had to tell, and how interesting it proved to the listeners.

"You might make a book of it," said Anderson Rover. "It equals our adventures in the jungles of Africa."

"I am going to write it out some day," answered Dick. "And, maybe, I'll get the story printed. The trouble is, I can't end the tale properly."

"How is that, Dick?" asked his Uncle Randolph. "You were all saved.
Isn't that a proper ending for any book?"

"Yes, but what of the villain? Baxter didn't show himself, and that is no ending at all. He should have fallen over a cliff, or been shot, or something like that."

"And we should have married the three girls," put in fun-loving Tom.
"That would make the story even more complete."

"Well, things do not happen in real life as they do in story books," said the parent. "It is likely you will never hear of Dan Baxter again. But we may hear from his father."

"His father!" exclaimed the three youths in concert.

"Why, Arnold Baxter is in prison," added Sam.

"He was, up to five days ago, when they took him to the hospital to undergo some sort of an operation. At the hospital the operation was postponed for a day, and during the night he slipped away from the institution and disappeared."

"Well, I never!" burst out Dick. "Isn't he the slick one, though!
Just when you think you've got him hard and fast, you haven't at all."

"Haven't they any trace of him?" asked Sam.

"None, so far as I have heard. There was a report that he had gone to New York and taken passage on a ship bound for Liverpool, but at present the ship is on the Atlantic, so the authorities can do nothing."

"I hope they catch him."

"We all hope that, Sam."

For a few days the three boys did nothing but take it easy. It was pleasant weather, and they roamed around the farm in company with their father and their uncle, or with Alexander Pop, the colored man of work. As my old readers know, Pop had been in former days a waiter at Putnam Hall, and Dick, Tom, and Sam had befriended him on more than one occasion, for which he was extremely grateful.

"Yo' boys is jes' naturally fust-class heroes," said Aleck one day. "Even if dem cannonballs had cum after yo', I don't t'ink da could have cotched yo', no, sirree!"

"It's a pity you weren't along, Aleck," answered Tom.

"I can't say as to dat, Master Tom. I got 'bout all de hair-raisin' times I wanted when we was in de jungles ob Africy. I'se only sorry ob one t'ing."

"And what is that?"

"Dat you didn't jes' go an' frow dat Dan Baxter overboard from dat ship de fust time yo' sot eyes on him. Suah as yo' am born he'll turn up some day to make moah trouble."

"Well, if he turns up we'll be ready for him," returned Tom grimly.

"How can yo' be ready fo' a pusson wot acts like a snake in de grass?
He'll sting befo' yo' hab de chance to spot him."

"We'll have to keep our eyes open, Aleck," answered the youth; and then the subject was changed.

During those days the boys went fishing and bathing in the river, and also visited Humpback Falls, that spot where Sam had had such a thrilling adventure, as related in "The Rover Boys at School."

"What a lot has happened since those days," said Sam, taking a deep breath. "Tom, do you remember how you got into trouble with old Crabtree the very first day we landed at Putnam Hall?"

"I do, Sam; and do you remember our first meeting, on the boat, with Dan Baxter, and how we sent him about his business when he tried to annoy Nellie, and Grace, and Dora?"

"Yes, indeed. Say, I am getting anxious to get back to the Hall. It seems almost like a second home."

"So am I," put in Dick. "Besides, we have lost time enough from our studies. We'll have to pitch in, or we'll drop behind our classes."

"Father says we can return to the Hall next Monday, if we wish."

"I vote we do so."

"So do I."

And thus it was decided that they should return to the academy four days later.

But during those four days something was to happen which would have an important bearing upon their future actions.

CHAPTER III

A MIDNIGHT VISITOR

The next day, shortly after noon, it began to rain, and the storm increased in violence until the wind blew almost a gale.

The rain kept the boys indoors, at which Tom was inclined to grumble.

"No use of grumbling, Tom," said Dick cheerfully. "Let us improve the time by looking over our school books. That will make it easier to slip into the grind again when we get back to the Hall."

"That is excellent advice, Richard," said Randolph Rover. "Whatever you do, do not neglect your studies."

"By the way, Uncle Randolph, how is scientific farming progressing?" said Tom, referring to something that had been his uncle's hobby for years—a hobby that had cost the gentleman considerable money.

"Well—ah—to tell the truth, Thomas, not as well as I had hoped for."

"Hope you didn't drop a thousand or two this year, uncle?"

"Oh, no—not over fifty dollars."

"Then you got off easy."

"I shall do better next year. The potatoes already show signs of improvement."

"Good! I suppose you'll be growing 'em on top of the ground soon. Then you won't have the bother of digging 'em, you know," went on the fun-loving boy innocently.

"Absurd, Thomas! But I shall have some very large varieties, I feel certain."

"Big as a watermelon?"

"Hardly, but—"

"Big as a muskmelon, then?"

"Not exactly, but—"

"About the size of a cocoanut, eh?"

"No! no! They will be as large as—"

"I mean a little cocoanut," pleaded Tom, while Sam felt like laughing outright.

"Well, yes, a little cocoanut. You see—"

"We saw some big potatoes in California, Uncle Randolph."

"Ah! Of what variety?"

"Cornus bustabus, or something like that. Sam, what was the name, do you know?"

"That must be something like it, Tom," grinned the youngest Rover.

"Took two men to lift some of those potatoes," went on Tom calmly.

"Two men? Thomas, surely you are joking."

"No, uncle, I am telling nothing but the strict truth."

"But two men! The potatoes must have been of monstrous size!"

"Oh, not so very big. But they did weigh a good deal, no question of it."

"Think of two men lifting one potato!"

"I didn't say one potato, Uncle Randolph. I said some of those potatoes."

"Eh?"

"The men had a barrel full of 'em."

"Thomas!" The uncle shook his finger threateningly. "At your old tricks, I see. I might have known it." And then he stalked off to hide his chagrin.

"Tom, that was rather rough on Uncle Randolph," said Sam, after a laugh.

"So it was, Sam. But I've got to do something. This being boxed up, when one might be fishing or swimming, or playing baseball, is simply dreadful," answered the other.

Just before the evening meal was announced Jack Ness came up from the barn, and sought out Randolph Rover.

"Found a man slinking around the cow-shed a while ago," he said. "He looked like a tramp. I wanted to talk to him, but he scooted in double-quick order."

"Humph! We haven't had any tramps here in a long time," came from
Randolph Rover. "Where did he go to?"

"Down toward the berry patch."

"Did you follow him up?"

"I did, sir, but he got away from me."

"You must keep a close watch for those fellows," said Randolph Rover bluntly. "I don't want any of them getting in our barn and burning it down to the ground."

"You are right, Randolph," said Anderson Rover. "Make them keep away from the place by all means, Jack."

"I'll keep my eye peeled for 'em," answered the hired man.

The wind was now blowing a gale, causing the trees near the farmhouse to creak and groan, and banging more than one shutter. But the boys did not mind this, and went to bed promptly at the usual hour.

"A storm like this on land is nothing to one on the sea," was the way Tom expressed himself. "I don't like anything better than to listen to the whistling of the wind when I am snug in bed."

For the time being Sam and Tom were occupying a room in the L of the farmhouse, and Dick had a small bedchamber adjoining. The boys were soon undressed, and, having said their prayers, hopped into bed, and were soon sound asleep.

It was not until half an hour later that the older folks retired. Anderson Rover was the last to leave the sitting room, where he had been busy writing some letters at the desk that stood there.

As he was about to retire he fancied he heard a noise outside of one of the windows. He drew up the curtain and looked through the glass, but could see nothing.

"It must have been the wind," he murmured. "But, somehow, it didn't sound like it."

As he stepped into the dark hallway an uneasy feeling took possession of him—a feeling hard to define, and one for which he could not account.

"I think I had better go around and see that all the doors and windows are properly locked," he told himself. "Brother Randolph may have overlooked one of them."

He walked the length of the hallway, and stepped into the kitchen and over to a side window.

As he had his hand on the window-latch he heard a quick step directly behind him.

He started to turn, but before he could do so he received a blow on the head from a club that staggered him. Then he was jerked backward to the floor.

"Silence!" muttered a voice close to his ear. "Don't you dare to make a sound!"

"What does this mean—" he managed to gasp.

"Silence, I tell you!" was the short answer. "If you say another word,
I will hit you again!"

Having no desire to receive a blow that might render him totally unconscious, or, perhaps, take his life, Anderson Rover said no more. He heard a match struck, and then a bit of a tallow candle was lit and placed on the edge of the kitchen table.

By this dim light the father of the Rover boys saw standing over him a tall man, beardless, and with his head closely cropped. One glance into that hardened face sufficed to tell him who the unwelcome visitor was.

"Arnold Baxter!"

"I see you recognize me," was the harsh reply. "Not so loud, please, unless you want that crack I promised you."

"What brings you here, and at such an hour as this?"

"I find it more convenient to travel during the night than in the daytime."

"The police are on your track."

"I know that as well you, Rover."

"What do you want here?"

"What does any man want when he has been stripped of all his belongings? I want money."

"I have none for you."

"Bosh! Do you think I have forgotten how you and your boys swindled me out of my rights to that mine in the far West?"

"We did not swindle you, Baxter. The claim was lawfully mine."

"I can't stop to argue the question, and I don't want you to talk so loud, remember that. No, don't try to get up," went on the midnight visitor, as Anderson Rover attempted to rise. "Stay just where you are."

He was feeling in his pocket, and now he brought forth a strip of cloth, with a knot tied in the middle.

It was a gag, and he started to place it in Anderson Rover's mouth, when the latter leaped up and began to struggle with all the force he could command.

"Stop, I tell you!" cried Arnold Baxter softly.

"Stop!" And then, catching up his club once more, he dealt Anderson Rover another blow, this time directly across the temple. The gentleman wavered for an instant, gave a deep groan, and fell like a log to the floor.

CHAPTER IV

A USELESS PURSUIT

Half an hour later Tom awoke with a start. For the moment he could not tell what had aroused him. Then he remembered hearing the slam of a door or a window sash.

"Must have been the storm," he told himself, and was about to turn over and go to sleep when he heard a gun-shot from the direction of the barn.

"Something is wrong, that's certain!" he cried. "Sam, wake up!"

"What's the row, Tom?" questioned the youngest brother sleepily.

Before Tom could reply they heard Dick getting up, and also their Uncle
Randolph and Aunt Martha.

"What did that shot mean?" demanded Randolph Rover, coming toward the boys' rooms. "Did any of you fire it?"

"No, it came from outside," returned Torn. "Hark!"

"Hullo, in the house!" came in the voice of Jack Ness. "Wake up, everybody! Something is wrong!"

After this it did not take long for those upstairs to slip into some clothing, and go below. Randolph Rover ran to the side door, to find it wide open. Dick lit the hall lamp.

"Saw a man running across the garden," said Jack Ness, who had his shot-gun with him. "I yelled to him to stop, and then fired the gun. I think he came from the house."

"How did you happen to be up?" asked Sam.

"One of the horses is sick, and I was attending to him."

By this time some of the others were looking into the various rooms.

"The desk has been broken open!" cried Dick. "And the pantry in the corner, too!"

"Mercy, save us!" shrieked Mrs. Rover, from the kitchen. "Come here at once. Poor Anderson has been killed!"

"Killed!" gasped Tom; and then all ran to the kitchen as quickly as they could.

They found Anderson Rover lying where he had fallen, and still unconscious. There was a lump on his forehead, and a thin stream of blood trickled down one side of his face.

"Thank heaven, he is not dead!" murmured Dick, as he knelt beside his father. "But he has been struck some cruel blows. Somebody fetch water and a bandage."

The water was procured, and also a bandage, and under skillful treatment, Anderson Rover was presently restored to consciousness.

"Where—where is he?" he questioned, when he could speak.

"Do you mean the person who struck you down?" asked Dick.

"Ye—yes."

"I don't know. Got away, I guess."

"The villain! He attacked me most foully!"

"I saw him running across the garden," put in the hired man. "Did he steal anything?"

"To be sure he stole something," said Sam. "He ransacked the whole lower floor, by the looks of things."

"Wonder who it was?" put in Tom.

"It was Arnold Baxter," answered his father.

"Arnold Baxter!" cried the others in chorus.

"Are you certain?" asked Dick.

"Yes. He struck me down, and then lit the bit of tallow candle you see lying there. Then we struggled, and he hit me again, and that is all I know. But I am sure it was Baxter, for I spoke to him. He accused us of having robbed him of that mine out West."

"Was he alone?" asked Randolph Rover.

"I saw no one else."

"We ought to follow him up," declared Tom, now that he realized his father was not so badly hurt as at first feared.

"That's the talk!" ejaculated Dick. "Wait till I get my pistol."

"Boys, do keep out of harm," pleaded Mrs. Rover. "Remember that this
Arnold Baxter is a desperate criminal."

"We are not afraid of him," answered Tom.

"We'll show him that he can't come here and attack father," added Sam.

Leaving their father in the care of their Aunt Martha, the three Rover boys armed themselves and sallied forth, accompanied by their uncle and Alexander Pop, the latter carrying a horse-pistol of the old-fashioned variety.

"Dat dar Baxter am a rascal of de fust water," was Aleck's comment. "He deserbes to be shot full ob holes, an' I am de boy to do dat same, if only I gets de chance."

Jack Ness was closely questioned, and he described the spot where he had last seen the unwelcome midnight visitor.

"He had a bag of something over his shoulder," he declared.

"Most likely the stuff taken from the house," declared Dick.

The party crossed the garden patch and then took to the path which ran down toward the river.

Here all was intensely dark, although it had stopped raining, and the wind was trying its best to scatter the heavy clouds that obscured the stars.

"Not a thing to see," observed Randolph Rover. "We may as well go back."

"Let us scatter and make a search," came from Dick, and his idea was carried out. But though they tramped the locality for a good half hour the pursuit of Arnold Baxter proved useless.

"He is probably making good use of his time," was Tom's comment. "He knew we would be after him hot-footed, just as soon as we heard of his being here."

"I'm going to drive over to the railroad station," said Dick. "He may hang around and get aboard of the first morning train."

"Take me along with you," said Sam, and Dick agreed. They got Aleck to drive them and took the fastest team the stable afforded.

But at the depot all was dark and deserted, and if Arnold Baxter was anywhere near he took good care not to show himself, nor was anything seen of him in Oak Run later on.

"He has left the neighborhood by some other way," said Randolph Rover, and his surmise was correct.

When the boys reached home again they found their parent sitting up in an easy-chair, with his forehead still bandaged. The blows he had received were painful, but by no means serious, and when the doctor was called in he said the patient would speedily recover.

"But you had a narrow escape," said the doctor. "Had you been struck a little harder your skull might have been broken."

"Well, I don't think Arnold Baxter would have cared if he had broken my skull," answered Anderson Rover. "He is a thoroughly bad man."

It was broad daylight before a complete examination of the house was made, and then it was learned that Baxter had run away with some silver knives, forks, and spoons, some gold napkin rings, a silver and gold water pitcher, and half a dozen similar articles. From the desk he had taken a pocketbook containing three hundred dollars in cash, and from Anderson Rover's person his watch and chain, and a diamond stud. He had also tried to rob the unconscious man of his diamond ring, but as the ring would not come off had pried out the stone and taken that.

"He is at his old tricks again," said Dick. "Evidently his term in prison has done him no good."

"Guess it has made him worse," added Sam. "Oh, how I would like to lay my hands on him!" And Tom said the same.

The authorities were notified, including the sheriff of the county, and later still Anderson Rover hired a New York detective to take up the case. But it was of no avail. Arnold Baxter did not show himself, and not a trace of him was to be found anywhere.

"I shouldn't be surprised if he disguised himself as soon as he got away from here," remarked Tom. "He could easily put on a false mustache, and a wig would fit capitally over that almost bald pate of his."

"But where would he get the mustache and wig, Tom?" asked Dick.

"He may have bought them before he came here. I have heard that some robbers prepare themselves for all sorts of emergencies. Only last week I was reading about a fellow who went to a ball, and between the dances went out and robbed a gentleman on the street of his watch. When he was arrested, he tried to prove that he hadn't been outside of the ballroom all night, and it was by the merest accident that the authorities found out his story wasn't true."

"Tom is right; some criminals are very shrewd," said his father. "And I fancy Arnold Baxter is about as slick as any of them."

"Well, I hope we run across him some day," said Dick.

With so much to occupy their minds the days flew by swiftly, and almost before they knew it Monday was at hand, and the three boys set out to return once more to Putnam Hall.

CHAPTER V

ON THE WAY TO PUTNAM HALL

The idea of going back to dear old Putnam Hall, with all of its pleasant memories, filled Tom with good humor, and he was fairly bubbling over on the train which carried the boys to Ithaca, where they were to take a steamer up Cayuga Lake to Cedarville, the nearest village to the academy.

"Makes me feel as I did the first time we went to the Hall," he declared. "Don't you remember that trip, and the fun we had with Peleg Snuggers, the wagon man?" and then he burst out singing:

"Putnam Hall's the place for me!
Tra-la-lee! Tra-la-lee!
Putnam Hall's the place for me!
The best old school I know!"

"You'll have the conductor putting you off, the next thing you know," remarked Sam.

"Putting me off? Never!" cried Tom. "He knows that academy boys own privileges that other passengers do not possess. He can't cork me up. I defy him!"

"Wonder if we'll meet any of the other fellows," mused Dick.

He had hardly spoken when the train stopped at a junction, and two other lads got aboard and came down the aisle. One was tall and handsome, and the other stout and with a round, chubby face beaming with good humor.

"Larry Colby!" cried Dick, leaping up and grasping the tall boy's hand.
"I'm awfully glad to meet you. Returning to the Hall, of course?"

"Yes," was the answer from the Rover boys' old chum. "Isn't it odd that
I should be thinking of you just as we meet?" and he shook hands.

"Hullo, if it ton't peen dem Rofer brudders alretty," cried the round-faced lad, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I dink me you vos left der Hall for goot, yah!"

"Hans Mueller!" came from Sam. "Then you are going back, too? I thought you had scarlet fever?"

"Not much I ain't," said the German youth. "I vos eat too much of dem puckveat cakes alretty, und dot makes mine face preak owid, put I ain't got no scarlet fefers, nein! How you vos alretty annahow?" And he shook hands as Larry had done.

"I can hardly believe your story about being cast away on an island in the Pacific," said Larry.

"Your letter read like a fairy tale. If you tell the fellows they'll think you are drawing the long bow."

"Yes, Larry vos told me somedings apoud dot," broke in Hans. "You vos regular Robinson Roosters," he said.

"Great Scott! Robinson Roosters!" yelled Tom, bursting out into a fit of laughter. "Boys, we are discovered at last."

"Well, if you are, you needn't crow over it," came from Larry.

"Roosters and crowing! Oh, Larry, I didn't think you'd begin to pun so early," put in Sam.

"He just hatched it out," said Tom.

"I suppose you think that sounds chic," joined in Dick. And then there was a laugh in which all but Hans Mueller joined. The German youth looked blankly from one to another of his companions.

"Vos dot Robinson Rooster a choke?" he demanded. "Of it vos let me in by it kvick."

"Oh, you couldn't climb in on a gangway and a step-ladder combined," answered Tom.

"Put vos you Robinson Roosters or vos you not Robinson Roosters?"

"Oh, we were Robinson Roosters right enough," answered Tom, when he could control his laughter.

"Den vot you vos giggling apout, hey?"

"Nothing, only it was so funny to be a Robinson Rooster and live on a big island with nobody but lions, buffaloes, snakes, and 'cannonballs,'" added the fun-loving youth.

"Cannonballs?" queried Larry

"That's what Aleck Pop calls 'em, Larry. He said it was a wonder the 'cannonballs' hadn't eaten us up," and then came another laugh, during which Hans was as mute as ever.

"Vos dere lions, snakes, and buffaloes py dot island on?" went on the
German youth.

"To be sure there were, Hans. And likewise elephants, panthers, cats, dogs, hippopotamuses, mice, elk, rats, and winged jibberjackers."

"Mine gracious, Tom! Und you vosn't eaten up alretty kvick!"

"None of the animals troubled us, but the three-horned jibberjacker. He came into our house one night, crawled upstairs, and began to swallow Sam alive."

"You ton't tole me!"

"Yes, I do tell you. He had Sam in his mouth, and had swallowed him as far as his waist, when Sam began to kick on the floor with his feet."

"I see, I see—" Hans' eyes were as big as saucers.

"That woke Dick and me up, and we ran and got Sam by the legs, and pulled for all we were worth."

"You ton't tole me, Tom! Und vot did dot vot-you-call-him do den?"

"He planked his ten feet on the floor, and—"

"His ten feet did you said, Tom?" interrupted Hans doubtfully.

"To be sure. Didn't you know that a real jibberjacker has ten feet?"

"Maype I did—I ton't oxactly remember about him."

"I am surprised at your ignorance of natural history, Hans. Yes, the real jibberjacker has ten feet, although a branch of the family, known as the jibbertwister, has only eight feet."

"Well, go on. He planked his ten feets by der floor town—"

"He held on and so did we, and it was a regular tug of war between us. Sam was swallowed as far as the waist, and couldn't do anything to help himself. You just ask Sam if that isn't so."

"When Tom tells the truth it's a fact every time, Hans," answered Sam, who felt as if he would choke from suppressed laughter.

"So the blamed old jibberjacker held on and held on," continued Tom. "Then we gave a tug and he gave a tug, and all of a sudden Sam came out. The shock was so great it threw Dick and me clear across the room, and through a doorway into the next room. But the poor jibberjacker fared still worse."

"How vos dot?"

"He flew up against the outside wall, and his weight was so great he went right through the side of the building, and landed on some rocks below. All of his ten legs were broken, and of course he couldn't get away, so we went down, got a long cross-cut saw, and sawed off his head. Now, if you don't believe that story, you come to our house sometime and I'll show you the cross-cut saw."

Hans stared in breathless amazement. His solemn face was too much for the others, and a peal of laughter rang through the car. At this Hans grew suspicious, and at length a sickly grin overspread his features.

"I know you, Tom Rofer," he said. "Dot vos von of dem fish stories, ain't it alretty?"

"No, it's a jibberjacker story, Hans."

"It vos a jibjacker fish story den annahow. You can't fool me some more. I vos too schmart for dot alretty. Ven I go py der academy I git mine ear teeths cut, hey?"

"All right, Hans, if you have cut your ear-teeth we'll call it off," said Dick, and here the conversation took a more rational turn.

"So far as I know only a few of the fellows have left the Hall on account of the scarlet fever scare," said Larry. "And they were boys that nobody seemed to care much about."

"I was told that the fellows expected to elect an entirely new lot of officers," said Sam. "We have been away so much I've rather lost track of our military affairs."

"Captain Putnam said we would have to ballot for officers as soon as all the boys were back," said Larry. "Some of the old officers have graduated, you must remember."

"I've not forgotten that I was once second lieutenant of Company A," put in Dick. "Reckon I'll have to try my luck once more—if the boys want me to run."

"Well, I want you to run for one, Dick," said Larry. "Hans, you'll vote for Dick, won't you?"

"Yah, und I vonts him to vote for me, too," said the German youth.

"Why, Hans, do you want to be water-carrier this year?" asked Sam.

"Nein, I vonts to be high brivate py der rear rank alretty. Von of der fellows tole me dot would chust suit me."

"All right, Hans, we'll all elect you high private of the rear rank," answered Larry with a laugh.

CHAPTER VI

FUN ON THE BOAT

At the city of Ithaca the boys stopped long enough to get dinner, and were here joined by Fred Garrison and George Granbury, two more of their old school chums.

"Hurrah for the gathering of the clans!" cried George Granbury, with a beaming face. "This is like a touch of old times. How are all of you, anyway?"

"First rate, with the exception of Hans here," said Tom. "He's got the buckwheat measles."

"Yah, und Tom he's got der jipperjocker fefer," declared the German boy, bound to do his best to get square.

"Good for Hans!" cried Sam. "Tom, after this, you have got to take care, or Hansie will roast you."

"Oh, Hans is just all right," observed Tom, and when the German boy's face was turned away he took the latter's coffee and put into it about a teaspoonful of salt. "Tell you what, fellows, this coffee just touches the spot," he added loudly.

"Right you are," said Fred Garrison. "Never tasted better in my life."

So far Hans had not touched the coffee, but hearing the words he took up his cup and downed a deep draught. It may be added that he was a German who loved coffee a good deal, and frequently drank several cups at a meal.

For an instant the German youth said nothing. Then his face turned pale.

"Dat coffee was no goot!" he gasped.

"Why, Hans," cried several.

"See how pale he is getting," came from George Granbury. "Hans, are you going to die?

"Don't say the coffee is going to poison him," burst out Tom. "I was reading about poison getting into the coffee at this hotel last week. But, of course—"

"Did da got poison py der coffee in here?" demanded Hans.

"To be sure, put—"

"How vos dot poisoned coffee taste annahow?"

"I'm sure I don't know."

"I think it was a little salty," came from Fred Garrison.

"Mine cracious me! Of dot's so I vos poisoned, sure. Run for der toctor kvick!"

"Here, eat some jam, Hans. That will counteract the effect of the poison," said Tom, and handed over a small dish with jam in it, over which he had just sprinkled the pepper with an exceedingly liberal hand.

Anxious to do anything that would stop him from being poisoned, the German boy clutched the dish and took a large spoonful of the jam. But as he gulped it, he gave a gasp, and the tears started down his cheeks.

"Du meine zeit!" he bawled. "I vos purnt up alife by mine mouth alretty! Dake it avay kvick!" And jumping up from the table he began to dance around madly.

"It's a serious case," said Tom. "If he's burning up we had better call out the fire department."

This remark made Hans grow suddenly suspicious. He caught up Tom's cup of coffee and tasted it.

"I know you, Tom Rofer," he said. "Dot vos more dricks of yours, ain't it?" He held the cup of coffee on high. "How you like dot, hey!" And splash! down came the coffee on Tom's head, and trickled down his back.

"Hi, you! let up!" roared Tom, and knocked the half-empty cup to one side. "Let up, I say, or I'll have the landlord put you out."

"I told you to take care, Tom," came from Sam, when the other boys had restored quietness. "When Hans gets his dander up he is dangerous."

"Dot is drue," came from Hans. "I vonts no more of them chokes alretty." And then, as the waiter came hurrying up, he forced Tom to order him another cup of coffee, and took good care to keep it out of the fun-loving youth's reach. Poor Tom sopped away the spilt coffee as best he could, but it must be admitted that for the balance of that day his backbone felt none too comfortable. Yet he bore no grudge towards Hans, for he knew that he had deserved the punishment meted out to him.

Down at the dock the boys found the Golden Star, a trim little side-wheeler, ready to take them up the lake. There were about half a hundred passengers, bound for various landings, and among them six Putnam Hall scholars, including our old-time acquaintances, Jack Powell, generally called Songbird Powell, because of his habit of composing poems and songs, and that aristocratic young gentleman who rejoiced in the name of William Philander Tubbs.

"The family is surely getting together," remarked Dick, after another handshaking had been indulged in. "Songbird, do you warble as much as ever?"

"You can wager a sweet potato he does," said George Granbury. "Nothing short of a cyclone will ever stop Songbird's warbling, eh, Songbird?"

For reply the youth addressed turned a pair of dreamy eyes on the speaker, and then said slowly:

   "With hopeful hearts
   And brightest faces,
   To school we go
   To fill our places.
   We'll study hard,
   And do our best—"

   "If Songbird Powell
   Will give us a rest!"

finished Tom. "Oh, Songbird, have mercy on us, and don't begin so early."

"You're a good one to preach, Tom," came from Larry. "Started to joke the moment we met him, didn't he, Hans?"

"Did I?" questioned Tom innocently. "I had forgotten." He turned to
Tubbs. "And how is our friend Philliam Willander to-day?"

"William Philander, if you please, Rover," was the dignified reply. "I must insist on your getting my name correctly this term."

"All right, Tubby, old boy, it shall be just as you say. I wouldn't hurt your feelings for a big red apple."

"Then, please don't call me Tubby. You know my real name is William
Philander Tubbs."

"Don't you want Esquire tacked to it, too?"

"That is hardly necessary as yet. But you may write it after my name, if you have occasion to send me any written communication," continued Tubbs, with greater dignity than ever.

"Phew! but Tubby is worse than he was before," whispered Sam to Dick.
"They must have been tuning him up at home."

"Tubbs is going to try for a captaincy this term," said Powell, who had not minded Tom's interruption of his versification in the least.

"Hurrah for Captain Tubbs!" cried Tom. "Captain, allow me to salute you," and he made a sweeping bow to the deck. Tom spoke so earnestly that Tubbs was pleased, and instantly forgot their little differences.

"I shall be pleased to become a captain," said the young gentleman. "I feel I can fill the position with credit to myself and dignity to the academy. There is military blood in my veins, for a second cousin on my mother's side was a lieutenant in the Civil War. Besides that, I have studied military movements at West Point, where I went to see the cadets drill."

"Do you know how to swab out a cannon?" asked Sam, with a wink at the others.

"I shouldn't—ah—care for such dirty work," replied William Philander
Tubbs with dignity.

"Or police a camp?"

"Surely you don't think I was ever a policeman?"

"Don't you remember what policing a camp is?" asked George Granbury.

"Upon my honor, I do not."

"It means to clean up the streets, burn up the rubbish, and all that."

"Thank you, but I do not—ah—care to become a street cleaner," returned
Tubbs, with great dignity.

"Sorry, but I'm afraid you are not cut out for a corporalship," came from Tom.

"I didn't say a corporalship, Tom, I said—"

"Excuse me, I meant a sergeantship."

"No, I said—"

"Make it a second lieutenantship, then, Tubby. Anything to be friends, you know."

"I said—"

"Oh, bother, if you want to be a major-general, go ahead. Nobody will stop you."

"Hurrah, Major-General Tubbs!" cried Sam. "That sounds well, doesn't it, fellows?"

"We'll have to present him with a tin-plated sword," came from one of the crowd.

"And a pair of yellow worsted epaulets," added another.

And then Songbird Powell began to sing softly:

   "Rub a dub, dub!
    Here comes General Tubb!
       He'll make you bow to the ground!
    You must stop ev'ry lark,
    And toe the chalk mark,
       As soon as he comes around."

"There you are, Tubby; think of Songbird composing a poem in your honor," cried Tom. "You ought to present him with a leather medal."

"I—I don't like such—er—such doggerel," cried William Philander Tubbs angrily. "I think—"

"Well, I never!" ejaculated Tom, in pretended astonishment. "And Songbird worked so hard over it, too! Thus doth genius receive its reward. Songbird, if I were you, I'd give up writing poems, and go turn railroad president, track-walker, or something like that."

"You boys are simply horrid, don't you know!" cried Tubbs, and, pushing his way through the crowd, he walked to the other end of the boat.

"Being away from school hasn't done Tubby any good," was Fred
Garrison's remark. "He thinks he's the High Tum-Tum, and no mistake."

"Don't fret, he'll be taken down before the term is over," came from
Larry Colby.

"That's true," added another pupil, who had been taken down himself two terms before. "And when he hits his level he'll be just as good as any of us."

The time on the steamer passed quickly enough, and after several stops along the lake, the Golden Star turned in at the Cedarville landing, and all of the Putnam Hall cadets went ashore.