“And how is she?”
“She is no worse, but neither is she better. I shall send for our doctor to-day.”
Breakfast was soon on the table-fresh coffee, fresh eggs, and dainty buckwheat cakes baked by Dora’s own hands. It is needless to say that Dick enjoyed the repast.
“You’ll make a famous housekeeper for somebody some day, Dora,” he said, looking at her pointedly.
“You go and eat your cakes before they get cold,” she answered.
“I’ve already eaten my fill, I can’t go another one. I’ve enjoyed them ever so much. Now I guess I had better be off for Cedarville.”
“If you wish, you can hitch up Dolly to the carriage and drive over. It will be nicer than walking.”
“Supposing I go over on horseback? Is she used to a saddle?”
“Oh, yes, and you will find a gentleman’s saddle in the harness closet back of the stalls.”
“Then I’ll go that way. Good-by. I’ll be back before noon, unless something unusual turns up. And when I am down in Cedarville I’ll send word to father about Aleck.”
Leaving the house Dick went to the barn, which was usually locked. Dora had given him the key, but to his surprise he found the padlock pried off and the door partly open.
“Can this be more of Crabtree’s work?” he asked himself. “Perhaps he has stolen the mare! What fools we were not to look in here last night.”
But Dick’s fears were groundless. The mare was still there. But she was all saddled, ready for him to ride.
“Crabtree’s work, beyond a doubt,” he thought.
Before he went to the house he came here, and it was his intention to steal the mare and get away on her.
CHAPTER VII
A HUNT THROUGH THE WOODS
Before starting for Cedarville Dick acquainted Dora with the discovery he had made.
“We were fortunate,” said the girl. “I would not lose Dolly for a good deal.”
If there was one thing Dick loved it was a good horse, and once on Dolly’s back he urged the little mare along at top speed. She was in prime fettle, and flew along the hard road as if she thoroughly enjoyed the outing.
Arriving at Cedarville Dick sought out the little police station, for the town had at last taken on a force, consisting of a chief and eight men.
The chief, a little fat man by the name of Burger, sat in his office reading the Cedarville Trumpet, the weekly journal of the place.
“Want to see me on business, eh?” he said, laying down the sheet. “All right, young man, sit down. What name?”
“Richard Rover. I am one of the cadets at Putnam Hall.”
“Just so. Trouble at the Hall, I presume? Anything connected with that celebration last night?”
“No, sir, I—”
“Another robbery, then? Captain Putnam seems to have his hands full.”
“We’ve had no robbery at the Hall, sir. I came—”
“No robbery, eh? Then perhaps it’s a fight. Students will fight when they get celebrating. I know we had a fight once at the academy I attended, and it lasted three days.”
“I hope they called out the fire department,” answered Dick, with a grin.
“The fire department—Ha! ha! a good joke! No; they called in the doctor, ha! ha! So it’s a fight, eh? Does the captain want us to arrest anybody?”
“It’s not a fight.”
“What? But you said—” The fat chief paused.
“I said I wanted to see you about business.”
“Just so—and that you were from Putnam Hall, and Captain Putnam had sent you.”
“No, no. Please give me a chance to talk.”
“Why, of course. I never interrupt anybody. Go on, but don’t take too much time, for my time is limited.”
“I came from Mrs. Stanhope’s cottage, man broke in there last night—”
“Ha, a burglary! Why didn’t they let us know at once? Or perhaps you have collared the villain already?”
“No, we haven’t got him, although my brother and I tried to catch him.”
“Pooh! Two boys, and tried to catch a burglar! Of course he got away.”
Dick felt disgusted, and arose to make his departure.
“If you won’t listen to what I have to report, I’ll take myself off,” he said half angrily.
At this Chief Burger stared at him in astonishment.
“Really, you are a remarkable boy,” he gasped. “Ain’t I listening to everything you are saying?”
“Hardly. I wish to tell you everything from the beginning.”
“Just so. Go on, I shan’t say a word. What a remarkable boy! But it must be the military training that does it.”
As well as possible Dick told all that had happened during the night. Chief Burger interrupted him a score of times, but at last the tale was finished. At the conclusion the chief closed one eye suggestively.
“And don’t you know where this Josiah Crabtree is now?” he asked.
“If I did I’d go after him hot-footed,” returned Dick.
“He must be in hiding in the woods near the cottage.”
“Perhaps, but he had eight hours in which to get away.”
“Just so. I will send out an alarm to all of my force, and then Detective Trigger and I will make a personal hunt for the rascal.”
“When you hunt for him you had better hunt for Dan Baxter, too,” said Dick, and he told of the happening on the stage ride.
“I will keep an eye open for Baxter, too,” said the chief.
From the police station Dick rode to the post office, and here wrote and mailed a long letter to his father, relating what had happened and repeating the wording of the letter that had been found. He requested that Alexander Pop be sent up without delay.
There was nothing to keep Dick in Cedarville any longer, and he prepared to return to the Stanhope cottage with the mare. But before going he entered the leading drug store, and here purchased a box of choice chocolates for Dora, for he fortunately had his spending money with him, or at least the balance left over from the football celebration.
When Dick reached the cottage he found both the washwoman and the carpenter at work, one in the wash-house and the other finishing up the new barn. The money taken from the bank had been turned over to Mr. Gradley, so Mrs. Stanhope no longer had this to worry her.
Feeling that he could do little at school for the balance of that day, Dick resolved to hunt through the woods for some trace of Josiah Crabtree, and went off shortly after giving Dora the chocolates, over which the girl was greatly pleased. He followed the road in the direction of the lake at first, and was about to plunge into the brushwood when a distant voice hailed him.
“Hullo, Dick, stop! I want to see you.”
It was Sam calling, and soon his youngest brother came up on a run.
“Sam, what brings you?” he asked, for it was easy to see that something out of the ordinary had occurred.
“I want to know where Tom is,” panted Sam.
“Tom?” Dick’s face grew pale all in an instant. “Didn’t he return to Putnam Hall last night?”
“No, and nobody around there has seen him since he went off with you. I thought he was with you, until Dora just told me that he started to return about midnight.”
“He did. And he didn’t return? What can it mean?”
“What’s the trouble here?”
Sam was given the particulars, and uttered a long, low whistle.
“That looks black, doesn’t it?”
“It does, Sam. I don’t like it for a cent.”
“Do you suppose he fell in with Crabtree?”
“Perhaps—or with somebody just as bad.”
“Perhaps he spotted Crabtree and started to follow him.”
“I shouldn’t
think he would follow him all this time without letting somebody know.”
For several minutes the two brothers discussed this new turn of affairs. Both were greatly troubled, and Dick did not know whether to continue his hunt or not.
“I wouldn’t care if only I knew he was all right,” he said.
“That’s just it. Tom is able to stand up for himself in an even fight, but if Crabtree played him some trick—”
“Let us hunt for him,” interrupted the elder Rover. “There is no use of our sitting down and sucking our thumbs.”
They went along the road until the spot was gained where Josiah Crabtree had been last seen. Then they began a systematic search until Sam discovered what he said were fresh footprints leading directly into the woods. At one point one of the prints was very plain, and they saw that it was made by a long shoe, square-toed.
“I reckon you have struck it, Sam,” said Dick, after an inspection. “Now if only we can stick to the trail to the end.”
Fortunately the ground was so damp that the trail could be followed with ease. An hour’s walking brought them to the rock where the former teacher had spent the larger part, of the night.
“He made a stop here, that’s certain,” observed Dick, as they surveyed the criss-cross tracks.
“Like as not he got mixed up in the dark, Dick. It must have been awfully black here under the trees.”
Presently they discovered another trail, leading up a hill. Beyond was a tall tree which Josiah Crabtree had climbed in order to obtain a better view of the surroundings. From the tree the trail led directly toward the lake.
“We’re on his track, all right enough,” observed Sam. “But if he took to the water we’ll lose it, just as we lost Baxter’s trail yesterday.”
The trail crossed the main road and came out at the lake where there was a slight bluff covered with a heavy growth of underbrush. To their right was an old building, which in years gone by had been a dwelling.
“There is a fire over yonder,” observed Dick, as he pointed past the building “Somebody seems to be burning a lot of wet brush. See the heavy smoke.”
“Perhaps the folks at the fire can tell us something of Crabtree,” answered Sam. “Let us go over and interview them.”
His brother was willing, and as well as they were able they pushed their way through the brush toward the fire.
The latter burned fiercely, and presently the two boys detected the odor of tar.
Then they reached a point where they could overlook what was going on around the fire, for the blaze was located in something of a gully of the cliff.
“Merciful heaven!” burst from Dick’s lips, and he stood spellbound. Sam also gave a look, and the sight that both boys saw nearly froze the blood in their veins.
CHAPTER VIII
WHAT BECAME OF TOM
To go back to Tom at the time when he left Dick and the Stanhopes, and started to return to Putnam Hall.
He went away whistling gayly, for he thought that all danger was over.
“What a shame I had to miss the celebration,” he murmured. “And after my success on the football field, too!”
Soon the Stanhope grounds were left behind, and he struck the main road leading to the academy.
He had advanced a distance of several hundred feet along this road when, on looking ahead, he observed some person coming slowly toward him.
Wondering who the individual could be, and thinking of Crabtree, he stopped short.
At the same time the other person also halted, and then of a sudden slipped out of sight behind the nearest trees.
“Hullo, that’s queer,” murmured the youth. “Evidently he doesn’t want to be seen. Can it be Crabtree?”
He was unarmed, and had some hesitancy about advancing, not knowing what to expect.
But he did not wish the former teacher to escape, and so casting around he espied a sharp stone and picked it up.
“Hi, there, come out of that!” he called, as he ran forward and held the stone ready for use.
No reply was vouchsafed, and he called again. By this time he was directly opposite the spot where the mysterious individual had disappeared.
“Look here, Josiah Crabtree, you might as well come out and give yourself up,” he called sharply.
Still there was no answer, and now Tom did not know what to do. Under the trees it was so dark that he could scarcely see a yard in front of him.
Yet he advanced several paces, still holding the stone up as a weapon of offense or defense, as the case might prove. But nobody appeared in sight, and at last he returned to the road.
He was in a quandary whether to return to the cottage or continue on his way to the Hall.
“I suppose I may as well go on,” he concluded. “Neither Dick nor I can do much in the woods in the dark.”
So he went on, but this time more slowly, wondering if Josiah Crabtree would follow him, and never dreaming that the person who had slipped him was not the former teacher, but Dan Baxter.
For Baxter it was, who had been waiting around to be joined by Crabtree, for the pair of evil-doers had come to the vicinity of the Stanhope cottage together.
“It’s Tom Rover,” muttered Baxter, on hearing the boy’s voice. “I was lucky to get out of the way.”
He remained as motionless as a statue while Tom passed within a dozen feet of him. Then When Tom went out on the road again Baxter ran forth, too, but in the opposite direction.
Down on a side road Baxter had that day run across a tramps’ encampment. In the camp were three hoboes, as they are sometimes called rascals who were willing to do almost anything but work for a living.
They had demanded money of the bully, and he gave them a dollar, fearing violence if he refused them.
Baxter now thought of the tramps, and as he did so an evil look crossed his face.
“If only I can pay off Tom Rover,” he muttered. “I’ll do it if I can.”
Soon the tramps’ encampment was reached, and he found two of the men dozing before a tiny fire, with an empty liquor bottle between then the third tramp had gone to Cedarville for more liquor.
“Wake up here,” cried Baxter, catching first one and then the other by the shoulder.
“What do yer want, young feller?” demanded the leader of the party, who rejoiced in the name of Stumpy Nuggs.
“I want you two men to help me lay a boy out,” answered Dan Baxter, feeling that there was no use in mincing matters, for he knew that the tramps were a bad crowd.
“Lay a boy out?” repeated the second tramp, who was called Longback.
“Yes, he is an enemy of mine, and just passed on the road yonder. If you will help me thrash him and make him a prisoner, I’ll give you each five dollars.”
“Say, yer talkin’ big,” said Stumpy Nuggs.
“I mean what I say. I know you are not above doing such work by the way you tackled me.”
“Is de boy alone?”
“Yes.”
“An’ yer want to whip him and den make him a prisoner?”
“Yes.”
“Wot yer goin’ ter do wid him after dat?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Who is de boy?”
“A cadet up at the military academy above here.”
Stumpy Nuggs scratched his head of tangled hair.
“Maybe yer gittin’ us into a trap fer askin’ yer fer dat dollar,” he observed suspiciously.
“No, I am not. This boy is an old enemy of mine, and I want to get square with him. We can easily catch him before he gets to the academy, if you hurry up.”
“An’ you will give us five dollars each?”
“Yes—and perhaps more. The boy carries a watch, and must have some money in his pocket. He also wears a gold ring.”
At the menti
on of jewelry and money the tramps’ eyes glistened.
“If you are tellin’ de truth, dis is all right,” cried Stumpy Nuggs, as he arose and stretched himself.
“I am telling the truth, and you can easily prove it for yourselves. Only hurry up, or it will be too late.”
The two tramps consulted together, and asked a few more questions. Then they agreed to follow Baxter, and do whatever he desired of them, providing they were allowed their fair share of plunder, if there was any.
In the meantime Tom went on in deep thought. He still held the stone in his hand. He wished he had a club, but the stick he had formerly picked up had been left at the cottage.
The hall grounds had just come into sight in the dim distance when the boy heard the patter of footsteps behind him.
He turned around, but could see nobody, and at that instant the sounds ceased.
“Somebody is following me,” he thought. “Can it be the same party I spotted before?”
An instant later he found himself confronted by two men and a boy, each with a bit of cloth tied over his face, into which two holes had been cut for eyes.
“Is dat him?” asked one of the men.
“Yes,” answered the boy, in a strangely unnatural voice. “Give it to him.”
All three of the party carried sticks, and they at once fell upon Tom, hitting him over the shoulders and the head.
He did his best to defend himself, and hit Baxter in the arm with the stone, inflicting a wound that made the bully shriek with pain.
“So it is you, Baxter!” cried Tom, recognizing the voice. “What do you mean by this?”
“Knock him down,” yelled the bully. “Don’t let him get away from you!”
Thus urged, the two tramps closed in, and while one caught Tom by the arm, the second tried to pull his feet from under him.
It was a fierce, but unequal struggle, and though the boy struck out right and left, inflicting not a little injury, in the end he found himself on his back, with Stumpy Nuggs sitting on his chest.
“You rascals, let up,” he gasped. “Do you mean to kill me?”
“Lay still, or you’ll catch it worse,” growled Nuggs. “Where’s dat rope, Longback?”
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 49