“And I say the same,” said Tom.
“Ditto here,” came from Sam.
At these words a look of bitter hatred crossed Dan Baxter’s face. He clenched his fists and breathed hard.
“You can brag when you are three to one,” he cried fiercely. “But wait, that’s all. My father would be a free man if it wasn’t for you. Wait, and see what I do!”
And so speaking he caught up his dress-suit case, swung around on his heel, and left the hotel before anybody could stop him.
“He’s the same old Baxter,” said Tom, with a long sigh. “Always going to square up.”
“I think he is more vindictive than he used to be,” observed Sam. “When Dick spoke about his father being in prison he looked as if he would like to strangle the lot of us.”
“Well, I admit it would be rough on any ordinary boy to mention the fact that his father was in prison,” said Dick. “But we all know, and Dan Baxter himself knows, that one is about as wicked as the other. The only thing that makes Arnold Baxter’s case worse is that he is old enough to know better.”
“So is Dan old enough to know better,” was Tom’s comment.
“I believe he was coming here to get accommodations,” said Dick.
“If he was, that would tend to prove that he had just arrived in San Francisco, Dick.”
“True. But he may have been in this vicinity, perhaps in Oakland, Alameda, or some other nearby town.”
“What do you suppose could have brought him here?”
“That’s a conundrum. Maybe he thought the East was getting too hot to hold him.”
“I wish we knew where he was going.”
“Let us see if we can follow him up.”
But to follow Dan Baxter up was out of the question, as they speedily discovered when they stepped out on the sidewalk. People were hurrying in all directions, and the bully had been completely swallowed up in the crowd.
“We must watch out,” said Dick. “Now he knows we are here he will try to do us harm, mark my words.”
The walk that afternoon proved full of interest, and in the evening they went to see a performance of a light opera at the Columbia Theater. The performance gave them a good deal of pleasure.
“Quarter past eleven!” exclaimed Dick, when they were coming away. “That’s the time we got our money’s worth.”
“I thought it must be late,” said Tom. “I was getting hungry. Let us get a bite of something before we go back to the hotel.”
The others were willing, and they entered a nearby restaurant and seated themselves at one of the tables. As they did this, a person who had been following them stopped at the door to peer in after them. The person was Dan Baxter.
“They are going to dine before retiring,” he muttered to himself. “The Old Nick take the luck! They have all the good times, while I have only the bad!”
Dan Baxter had followed the boys from the hotel to the theater and had also waited around for them to come out. He wanted to “square up” with them, but had no definite plan of action, and was trusting to luck for something to turn up in his favor.
He had drifted to the West for a double reason. The one was, as the boys had surmised, because the East seemed to be getting too hot to hold him. His second reason was that he hoped to get passage on some vessel bound for Sydney, Australia. He had a distant relative in Australia, and thought that if he could only see that relative personally he might be able to get some money. He was nearly out of funds, and so far the relative, although rich, had refused to send any money by mail or express.
“They have everything they want, while I have nothing,” he went on savagely. “And they don’t deserve it, either. Oh, how I wish I could wring their necks for ‘em!”
Suddenly an idea struck him and without waiting for the boys to come out of the restaurant he hopped on board of a street car running in the direction of the Oakland House. Entering the hotel office he asked to look at the register.
“Room 324,” he said to himself. “That is on the third floor, I suppose, since they generally start a new hundred for every floor. Wonder if I can get up without being noticed?”
He watched his chance, and slipping past the bell boys, made his way up the stairs, which, on account of the elevators, were but little used. In a few minutes he was in front of the door to Room 324. He tried it cautiously, to find it locked.
“Now if only the keys will work,” he muttered, breathing hard, and taking a bunch of keys from his pocket he tried them, one after another.
He had tried four keys without success, when he saw a waiter approaching with a trayful of good things for a late supper in a nearby apartment. At once he moved away down the hallway and did not return until the servant had disappeared from view.
He had five other keys and the third fitted the lock, although rather crudely; so crudely in fact that once the lock bolt was turned the key could not be withdrawn.
“That’s bad,” he thought. “But as it cannot be helped I’ll have to make the best of it. I mustn’t stay here too long,” and going into the room he closed the door after him.
There was a faint light burning at one of the gas jets and this he turned up, and pulled down the shades of the windows. Then he gazed swiftly around the large room, noting the boys’ trunks and traveling bags and several articles of wearing apparel scattered about.
“Oh, if only I can find what I am after,” he muttered. “But more than likely they carry their money with them, or else they left it at the hotel office.”
All of the trunks and traveling bags were locked, and to force the trunks open seemed at first impossible. One of the traveling bags was slit open with a sharp pocket-knife the bully carried and the contents emptied on one of the beds.
“Not much that I want,” muttered Dan Baxter, as he gazed at the collection. Then a jewel case caught his eye and he opened it. “A diamond stud and a diamond scarf pin! Not so bad, after all!” And he transferred the jewelry to his pocket.
A second later he came upon a bunch of keys. They proved to belong to the trunks and bags, and soon he had the trunks open and the contents scattered in all directions. Then he went down on his knees, examining everything brought to light.
It must be confessed that he was in a fever of excitement. The Rover boys might return at any moment, and he knew full well that to be caught would mean a term in prison. He kept his ears on the alert while his heart thumped loudly within his bosom.
“A pocketbook at last!” he cried softly, and snatched it up. One look showed him a, small pile of five and ten-dollar bills, exactly two hundred and seventy-five dollars in all. Then he found another jewel case, and from it extracted a second diamond stud and a pair of very fine cuff buttons.
“That is all I guess I can get,” he muttered, as he stood up. “But I might as well take a new outfit while I am at it,” he added, and picked up several articles of wearing apparel. These he stuffed in one of the bags which had not been cut, and around it put a small strap.
Tiptoeing his way to the door, he opened it and listened. Nobody was within hearing or sight. But as he stepped out, the waiter he had before seen came once more into view, this time carrying a tray with some bottles and a box of cigars. The waiter eyed him curiously again, but said nothing.
“Too bad he saw me, but it can’t be helped,” thought Dan Baxter, and made his way downstairs with all possible speed. Once in the lower hall he lost no time in gaining the street. In another moment he was swallowed up in the darkness of the night.
CHAPTER III
A DISCOVERY AND WHAT FOLLOWED
“Hullo, what does this mean? Here is a key in the door.”
It was Dick Rover who spoke. He stood in the hallway of the hotel, and beside him were Tom and Sam. They had eaten rather heartily at the restaurant and taken more time than they had anticipated.
&n
bsp; “I didn’t leave the key there,” came from Tom. “Here it is,” and he brought it out of his pocket. “I meant to leave it at the desk, but it slipped my mind.”
Dick found the door open and walked into the room, followed by his brothers. Baxter had extinguished the gas and they stood in the dark until Sam found a match and lit up. Then a cry went up from all three:
“We have been robbed!”
“This is some sneak thief’s work,” came from Dick. “Run down and tell the hotel clerk at once.”
Tom bolted from the room and went down the stairs three steps at a time. The clerk sat dozing in his chair and was roused up with difficulty. But as soon as he realized that something was wrong he was wide-awake.
“A robbery, eh?” he queried. “What have you lost?”
“We’ve got to find that out,” answered Tom.
In less than a quarter of an hour they knew the extent of their loss—three diamonds and a pair of cuff buttons, in all worth over two hundred dollars, and two hundred and seventy-five dollars in cash—not to mention a ruined valise and one missing, and the loss of a light overcoat, some silk handkerchiefs and some underwear.
“A total loss of over five hundred dollars,” said Tom.
At this the hotel clerk gave a long whistle. “As much as that?”
“Yes,” said Dick.
“We must get on the track of the thief, and without delay.”
“I reckon I know the thief,” said Sam.
“You think it was Dan Baxter?” questioned his elder brother.
“I do.”
“Perhaps you are right. But there is no proof that he did it.”
The hotel clerk found the windows closed and locked.
“The thief came in and went out by the door,” he said. “The hall boys or somebody else must have seen him. This key is stuck in the lock, which proves that it is not a regular hotel key.”
Without delay the story of the robbery was telephoned to the nearest police station, and soon two detectives appeared. By this time some of the servants noticed that something was wrong, and the waiter who had seen Dan Baxter come in and go out told his story, to which the boys, the hotel clerk, and the detectives listened with interest.
“Tell us just how that fellow looked,” said Dick, and the waiter gave a very good description of the person he had seen.
“I imagine Sam is right,” said Dick. “If it wasn’t Dan Baxter it was his double.”
Upon hearing this the hotel clerk and the detectives insisted upon knowing who Dan Baxter was, and the boys told as much of the bully as they deemed necessary.
“Of course, if he is guilty the chances are that he will leave San Francisco as soon as possible,” said one of the detectives. “The best we can do is to try to head him off.”
“And we’ll do our best to find him, too,” added Tom.
“I think the hotel ought to be responsible for this robbery,” said Dick.
“You didn’t leave your key at the desk when you went out,” cried the hotel clerk, struck by a sudden idea.
“What of that?” asked Tom.
“That makes the guest responsible.”
“What!” cried Tom, aghast.
“We are responsible only when the key is left at the desk. And jewels must be left for keeping in one of our safes,” went on the clerk. “There are our rules,” and he pointed to the printed form tacked on the inside of the door.
“Don’t let us talk about that just now,” said one of the detectives. “I think we can get hold of this thief, and if we are quick about it we’ll get everything he took, too.”
The matter was talked over for a quarter of an hour longer and then the detectives went off to make their report and to follow on the trail of Dan Baxter, if such a thing was possible.
It must be confessed that the three Rover boys slept but little that night. The loss of the cash was something of a serious matter to them, even though they still possessed a hundred odd dollars in cash between them, and could easily telegraph home for more. More than this, the diamonds and cuff buttons had been gifts of which they were very proud.
“And to think that Dan Baxter should get them,” said Tom. “I wouldn’t feel half so bitter if it had been just some ordinary sneak thief.” And the others said the same.
Two days went by and nothing was learned concerning Dan Baxter further than that he had put up at the Montgomery Hotel for one night and had left early in the morning.
“He is hundreds of miles away from here by this time,” said Dick sadly.
“He said he would get square, and I guess he has done it,” returned Tom.
But Dan Baxter had not gotten as far as they supposed. He was in hiding in Oakland, across the bay, having pawned the diamonds at a pawn-broker’s of shady reputation for seventy-five dollars. This gave him three hundred and fifty dollars in cash, which made him, for the time being, feel quite rich.
But he was afraid to take a train to some other town, and so remained in the boarding house for nearly a week, under the assumed name of Robert Brown.
At the end of the fifth day Dan Baxter became acquainted with a seafaring man named Jack Lesher. Lesher was a rough fellow, who had sailed to many ports on the Pacific Ocean. He had now obtained the position of first mate on a large schooner which was to sail in a few days from San Francisco to several ports in Australia.
“I’d like to go on that trip to Australia,” said Baxter, thinking of his distant relative. “Do you want a passenger?”
“I’ll see about it, my hearty,” replied Jack Lesher, and on the following day said that Captain Blossom would take him for an even hundred dollars. A bargain was struck at once, and Dan Baxter went on board of the schooner Golden Wave that afternoon.
“I’m glad I am out of it,” he told himself, when snug on board of the craft. “I’ll get to Australia after all, and I’m considerably richer than I thought I would be. More than that, I’ve got in on those Rover boys in a way they won’t forget in a hurry.”
While the detectives looked for the thief, the boys had small heart to go sight-seeing. Every time they, went out they looked for Dan Baxter.
“If only I could meet him!” cried Tom. “Oh, but wouldn’t I just punch him good before I passed him over to a policeman.”
During those days the lads received several letters from home, and also three communications from the Stanhopes and the Lanings.
“The Stanhopes have gone to Santa Barbara,” announced Dick, after perusing an epistle from Dora. “And she says her mother is slightly better.”
“Nellie Laning is coming out, and so is Grace,” said Tom.
“When?” questioned Dick.
“They have already started, according to the letter I have,” put in Sam. “Boys, I think we can have just the jolliest time ever was when the girls are all together.”
“Right you are,” came from Tom. “What a pity we had to have that robbery to darken our fun.”
“I am not going to let it darken my fun,” said Dick. “Don’t worry but what some day we’ll get the best of Dan Baxter. That stolen stuff will never do him much good.”
The very next morning came word from the detectives. One of them called at the hotel.
“I am afraid the case is queered,” said he. “We tracked the rascal to Oakland, and now it looks as if he had given us the slip for good.”
“Can’t you find any trace of him?” questioned Sam.
“Oh, yes! but he has shipped on a vessel which is bound for Australia, and as she is already two days out of port he is out of our reach.”
“You are certain he went on that vessel?” cried Tom.
“Yes. He went as a passenger, under the name of Robert Brown.”
“And did he take the jewels and money with him?”
“More than likely. At any rate,
we can find no trace of the jewels.”
“Then that chase is done for,” said Dick, “and we shall have to pocket our loss.”
The detective was chagrined to think that he had tracked Dan Baxter only to lose him, and promised to see if anything more could be done in the matter.
But nothing could be done, as there was no telling when the Golden Wave would arrive at Australia, and what port the craft would first make.
“We have seen the last of Dan Baxter,” said Sam.
But the youngest Rover was mistaken. They were to meet the bully again, and under circumstances as astonishing as they were perilous.
CHAPTER IV
GOOD TIMES AT SANTA BARBARA
“What a land of plenty!”
It was Tom who made the remark.
The Rover boys were on their way to Santa Barbara, after having spent three weeks at San Francisco and vicinity. They had received word that Dora Stanhope and her mother and the two Laning girls were at the fashionable watering place, and they were anxious to meet their old friends.
On sped the luxurious train, over hills and through the valleys, past heavy woodlands and by rich fruit farms. It was a scene which interested them greatly, and they never tired of sitting at the windows, gazing out.
Presently the car door opened and a tall young fellow, carrying a valise, stepped inside and walked down the aisle. As he came closer Dick Rover leaped up.
“Bob Sutter!” he cried, with a smile of pleasure. “Who would ever dream of meeting you out here?”
“Is it really Dick Rover?” questioned the newcomer, as he shook hands. “And Tom and Sam, too! I must be dreaming. Is Putnam Hall on its travels?”
“We are on our travels,” replied Tom, also shaking hands, followed by Sam. “But what are you doing here?”
Bob Sutter, a former scholar at Putnam Hall, smiled broadly.
“I live in California now. My father is interested in real estate in Los Angeles, Ventura, and Santa Barbara. Our home is in Santa Barbara.”
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