“Nor I,” answered Dick. “To me this affair isn’t very clear.”
“I don’t believe they will be able to convict him of the crime,” put in Sam.
An hour later Peleg Snuggers started away from Putnam Hall with his prisoner. Aleck looked the picture of misery as he sat on a rear seat, his wrists bound together and one leg tied to the wagon seat with a rope.
“Dis am a mistake,” he groaned. “I aint guilty nohow!”
Some of the boys wished to speak to him, but this was not permitted. Soon the turnout was out of sight.
“You may think I am hard with him,” said Captain Putnam, later on, “but to tell the truth he does not come from a very good family and he has a step-brother already in prison.”
“Aleck can’t be held responsible for his stepbrother’s doings,” murmured Tom, but not loud enough for the master to hear him.
A diligent search had been made for the other stolen articles, but nothing more was brought to light. If Pop had taken the things he had either hidden them well or else disposed of them.
It was nearly nightfall when Peleg Snuggers drove back to the Hall. Dick and Tom met him just outside the gates and saw that the man-of-all-work looked much dejected.
“Well, Peleg, is he safe in jail?” called out Tom.
“No, he ain’t,” was the snappy reply.
“Why, what did you do with him?” questioned Dick quickly.
“Do? I didn’t do nuthin—not me. It was him as did it all—cut that blessed rope and shoved me over the dashboard on to the hosses!” growled Snuggers.
“Do you mean to say he got away from you?” asked Tom.
“Yes, he did—got away like a streak o’ fightnin’, thet’s wot he did, consarn him!” And without another word Peleg drove to the rear of the Hall, put his team in the barn, and went in to report to Captain Putnam.
Another row resulted, and this nearly cost the utility Man his position. But it appeared that he was not so much to blame that Alexander Pop had taken him unawares and finally he was sent away to his work with the caution to be more careful in the future. Before night and during the next day a hunt was made for the colored man, but he had left the vicinity entirely, gone to New York, and shipped on one of the outward-bound ocean vessels. The Rover boys fancied that they would never see him again, but in this they were mistaken.
CHAPTER IX
THE ROVER BOYS ON WHEELS
“Say, fellows, but this is the greatest sport yet!”
“I feel like flying, Tom,” said Dick Rover. “I never thought wheeling was so grand.”
“Nor I,” came from Sam Rover. “Where shall we go this afternoon?”
It was several weeks later, and the scholars were having a half-holiday. Just six days before, Randolph Rover had surprised his three nephews by sending each a handsome bicycle, and it had taken them hardly any time to learn how to handle the machines.
“Let us take a ride over to Chardale,” said Dick. “I understand that the roads are very good in that direction.”
“All right, I’m willing,” answered Sam, and Tom said the same. Soon the three brothers were on the way, Dick leading and Tom and Sam coming behind, side by side.
It was an ideal day for cycling, cool and clear, and the road they had elected to take was inviting to the last degree, with its broad curves, its beautiful trees, and the mountainous views far to the north and west.
“It’s a wonder we didn’t get wheels before,” observed Dick. “This beats skating or riding a to bits.”
“Just you look out that you don’t take a header!” warned Tom. “This road is all right, but a loose stone might do a pile of damage.”
“I’ve got my eye on the road,” answered his big brother. “For the matter of that, we’ll all have to keep our eyes open.”
To reach Chardale they had to cross several bridges and then descend a long hill, at the foot of which ran the railroad to several towns north and south.
“Come on!” cried Tom, and spurted ahead. With a laugh, Sam tried to catch up to him, but could not. “Now for a coast!” went on the fun-loving Rover, as the hill was gained, and on he started, his wheel flying faster and faster as yard after yard was covered.
“My gracious, Tom! look out or you’ll be smashed up!” yelled Dick. “Put on your brake!”
“Can’t,” came back the answer. “I took it off entirely this morning.”
This reply had scarcely reached Dick’s ears when another sound came to him which disturbed him greatly.
Far away he heard the whistle of a locomotive as it came around the bottom of the hill. Looking in the direction, he saw the puff of smoke over the treetops.
He tried to cry out, but now the road was rather rough, and he had to pay strict attention ‘to where he was riding.
“Tom’s going to get into trouble,” gasped Sam, as he ranged up alongside of his elder brother. “The road crosses the railroad tracks just below here.”
“I know it, Sam. I wish we could make him come back.”
As Dick finished he saw a chance to stop and at once dismounted. Then he yelled at the top of his lungs:
“Tom, stop! Stop, or you’ll run into the railroad train!”
Sam also came to a halt and set up a shout. But Tom was now speeding along like the wind and did not hear them.
Nearer and nearer he shot to the railroad tracks. Then the whistle of the locomotive broke upon his ears and he turned pale.
“I don’t want to run into that train,” he muttered, and tried to bring his bicycle to a halt.
But the movement did not avail without a brake, and so he was compelled to seek for some side path into which he might guide his machine.
But, alas! the road was hemmed in with a heavy woods on one side and a field of rocks on the other. A sudden stop, therefore, would mean a bad spill, and Tom had no desire to break his bones by any such proceeding.
Nearer and nearer he drew to the railroad crossing. He could now hear the puffing of the engine quite plainly and caught a glimpse of the long train over the rocks to his left. On he bounded until the crossing itself came into view. He was less than a hundred yards from it—and the oncoming engine was about the same distance away!
There are some moments in one’s life that seem hours, and the present fraction of time was of that sort to poor Tom. He had a vision of a terrific smash-up, and of Dick and Sam picking up his lifeless remains from the railroad tracks. “I’m a goner!” he muttered, and then, just before the tracks were reached, he made one wild, desperate leap in the direction of a number of bushes skirting the woods. He turned over and over, hit hard—and for several seconds knew no more.
When Dick and Sam came up they found Tom sitting in the very midst of the bushes. The bicycle lay among the rocks with the handle-bars and the spokes of the front wheel badly twisted.
“Are you much hurt, Tom?” asked his big brother sympathetically, yet glad to learn that Tom had not been ground to death under the train, which had now passed the crossing.
“I don’t know if I’m hurt or not,” was the ‘slow answer, as Tom held his handkerchief to his nose, which was bleeding.
“I tried to plow up these bushes with my head, that’s all. I guess my ankle is sprained, too.”
“You can’t ride that wheel any further,” announced Sam.
“I don’t want to ride. I’ve had enough, for a few days at least.”
It was a good quarter of an hour before Tom felt like standing up. Then he found his ankle pained him so much that walking was out of the question.
“I’m sure I don’t know what I am going to do,” he said ruefully. “I can’t walk and I can’t ride, and I don’t know as I can stay here.”
“Perhaps Dick and I can carry you to Hopeton,” said Sam, mentioning a small town just beyond the railroad tracks.
&n
bsp; “It will be a big job. If you— Here comes a wagon. Perhaps the driver of that will give me a lift.”
As Tom finished a large farm wagon rattled into sight, drawn by a pair of bony horses and driven by a tall, lank farmer.
“Hullo, wot’s the matter?” asked the farmer, as he drew rein. “Had a breakdown?”
“No, I’ve had a smash-up,” answered Tom.
“My brother’s ankle is sprained, and we would like to know if you can give him a lift to the next town,” put in Dick. “We’ll pay you for your trouble.”
“That’s all right—Seth Dickerson is allers ready to aid a fellow-bein’ in distress,” answered the farmer. “Can ye git in the wagon alone?”
Tom could not, and the farmer and Dick carried him forward and placed him on the seat. Then the damaged bicycle was placed in the rear of the turnout, and Seth Dickerson drove off, while Sam and Dick followed on their steeds of steel.
“I see you air dressed in cadet uniforms,” remarked the farmer, as the party proceeded on its way. “Be you fellers from Pornell school?”
“No; we come from Putnam Hall,” answered Tom.
“Oh, yes—’bout the same thing, I take it. How is matters up to the school—larnin’ a heap?”
“We are trying to learn all we have to.”
“Had some trouble up thar, didn’t ye? My wife’s brother was a-tellin’ me about it. A darkey stole some money an’ watches, an’ that like.”
“They think he stole them,” said Tom.
“We can hardly believe it.”
“Why don’t Captain Putnam hunt around them air pawnshops fer the watches?” went on Seth Dickerson, after a pause.
“The thief would most likely pawn ‘em, to my way of thinkin’.”
“He hasn’t much of a chance to do that. But I presume the police will keep their eyes open.”
“I was over to Auburn yesterday—had to go to see about a mortgage on our farm—and I stopped into one of them pawnbrokin’ shops to buy a shot-gun, if I could git one cheap. While I was in there a big boy came in and pawned a gold watch an’ two shirt studs.”
“Is that so,” returned Tom, with much interest. “What kind of a looking boy was it?”
“A tall, slim feller, with reddish hair. He had sech shifty eyes I couldn’t help but think that maybe he had stolen them things jest to raise some spending money.”
“Did he give his name?”
“He said Jack Smith, but I don’t think thet vas correct, for he hesitated afore he gave it.”
“A tall, slim fellow, with reddish hair and shifty eyes,” mused Tom. “Do you remember how he was dressed?”
“He had on a rough suit of brownish-green and a derby hat with a hole knocked in one side.”
“My gracious me!” burst out the boy. “Can it be possible!”
“Can wot be possible, lad?”
“That description fits one of our students exactly.” Tom called to Dick and Sam. “Come up here, both of you!”
“What’s up, Tom; do you feel worse?” asked Dick, as he wheeled as closely to the seat of the wagon as possible.
“No, I feel better. But I’ve made a big discovery—at least, I feel pretty certain that I have?”
“What discovery?” questioned Sam.
“I’ve discovered who stole that money and other stuff.”
“And who was it?” came quickly from both brothers.
“Jim Caven.”
CHAPTER X
A STRANGE MESSAGE FROM THE SEA
“Jim Caven!” repeated Dick slowly, “What makes you believe that he is guilty?”
“From what Mr. Dickerson here says,” answered Tom, and repeated what the farmer had told him.
“Gracious, that does look black for Caven!” said Dick, when he had finished. He turned to the farmer. “Would you recognize that boy again if you saw him?”
“I allow as how I would. His eyes was wot got me—never saw sech unsteady ones afore in my life.”
“Yes, those eyes put me down on Caven the minute I saw him,” answered Tom. “More than half of the boys at the Hall have put him down as a first-class sneak, although we can’t exactly tell why.”
“See here,” said Dick. “I think it would be best if Mr. Dickerson would drive back to the Hall with us and tell Captain Putnam of what he knows.”
“And see if he can identify Caven,” finished Sam. “Are you willing to do that, Mr. Dickerson?”
“Well, to tell the truth, I’ve got some business to attend to now,” was the slow reply.
“I am sure Captain Putnam will pay you for your trouble,” went on Sam. “If he won’t, we will.”
“You seem mighty anxious to bring this Caven to justice,” smiled the farmer.
“We are, for two reasons,” said Tom. “The first is, because he isn’t the nice sort to have around, and the second is, because one of the men working at the school, a colored waiter, whom we all liked, has been suspected of this crime and had to run away to avoid arrest.”
“I see. Well—” The farmer mused for a moment. “All right, I’ll go back with ye—and at once.”
The team was turned around as well as the narrow confines of the hilly road permitted, and soon the Rover boys were on their way back to Putnam Hall, a proceeding which pleased Tom in more ways than one, since he would not have now to put up at a strange resort to have his ankle and his wheel cared for. They bowled along at a rapid gait, the horses having more speed in them than their appearance indicated. They were just turning into the road leading to Putnam Hall grounds when Dick espied several cadets approaching, bound for the lake shore.
“Here come Caven, Willets, and several others!” he cried. “Mr. Dickerson, do you recognize any of those boys?”
The farmer gave a searching glance, which lasted until the approaching cadets were beside the wagon. Then he pointed his hand at Jim Caven.
“Thet’s the boy I seed over to Auburn, a-pawning thet watch an’ them studs,” he announced. “He’s got his sodger uniform on, but I know him jest the same.”
Jim Caven looked at the farmer in astonishment. Then when he heard Seth Dickerson’s words he fell back and his face grew deathly white.
“I—I don’t know you,” he stammered.
“I seed you over to Auburn, in a pawnshop,” repeated Dickerson.
“It—It isn’t true!” gasped Caven. “I was never over to Auburn in my life. Why should I go there to a pawnshop?”
“I guess you know well enough, Caven,” said Tom. “You bad better come back to the Hall with us and have a talk with Captain Putnam.”
“I won’t go with you. This is—is a—a plot against me,” stammered the slim youth.
“You will go back!” cried Dick, and caught Caven by the arm. But with a jerk the seared boy freed himself and ran down the road at the top of his speed.
Sam and Dick pursued him on their bicycles, while some of the others came after on foot. Seeing this, Jim Caven took to the woods just as Dan Baxter had done, and the boys found it impossible to track him any further.
“I wonder if he’ll come back tonight?” said Dick, as the party returned to where they had left Seth Dickerson and Tom.
“I don’t think he will,” answered Sam. “I declare, he must be almost as bad as the Baxters!”
The farm wagon soon reached the Hall, and Dick ushered Seth Dickerson into Captain Putnam’s office. The captain looked surprised at the unexpected visitor, but listened with deep concern to all the farmer and the Rover boys had to say.
“This certainly looks black for Caven,” he said at last. “I did not think I had such a bad boy here. And you say he got away from you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It is a question if he will come back—providing he is really guilty. I will have his trunk and bag searched without
delay. But if he is guilty how did that ruby stud and the watch come into Alexander Pop’s possession?”
“He was down on Aleck,” replied Tom, who had hobbled in after the others. “And, besides, he thought if Aleck was arrested the search for the criminal would go no further.”
“Perhaps you are right, Thomas. It is a sad state of affairs at the best.”
The party ascended to the dormitory which Jim Caven occupied with several smaller boy. His trunk was found locked, but Captain Putnam took upon himself the responsibility of hunting up a key to fit the box. Once open the trunk was found to contain, among other things, a bit of heavy cloth tied with a piece of strong cord.
“Here we are, sure enough!” cried the captain, as he undid the package and brought to light several of the missing watches and also some of the jewelry. “I guess it is a clear case against Caven, and Pop is innocent.”
“I wish we could tell Pop of it,” put in Dick.
“He must feel awfully bad.”
“I will do what I can for the negro, Rover. I am very sorry indeed, now, that I suspected him,” said Captain Putnam, with a slow shake of his head.
At the bottom of the trunk was a pocketbook containing nearly all of the money which had been stolen. A footing-up revealed the fact that two watches and three gold shirt studs were still missing.
“And those were pawned in Auburn,” said Sam. “Just wait and see if I am not right.”
A party was organized to hunt for Caven, and the captain himself went to Auburn that very evening. The hunt for the missing boy proved unsuccessful, and it may be added here that he never turned up at Putnam Hall again nor at his home in Middletown, having run away to the West.
When Captain Putnam came back he announced that he had recovered all but one watch. The various goods and the money were distributed among their rightful owners, and it must be confessed that a big sigh of relief went up from the cadets who had suffered. The single missing timepiece was made good to the boy who had lost it, by the captain buying a similar watch for the youth.
After this several weeks passed without anything of special interest occurring outside of a stirring baseball match with a club from Ithaca, which Putnam Hall won by a score of six to three. In this game Dick made a much-needed home run, thus covering himself with glory.
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 36