“Was the sister’s name Merrick, too, or was she married?” asked Sam.
“She was a widow, so I was told. When she died she left her son in charge of Merrick—but I don’t believe he ever looked after the boy very much.”
“What was her name?” asked Dick.
“Sobber—Mary Ann Sobber.”
“Sobber!” ejaculated the three Rover boys.
“That’s it.”
“Did you ever hear the son’s name?” asked Dick.
“I don’t remember—yes, I do. Merrick had a letter from him once. The boy’s name was Tad Sobber. He was at a boarding school somewhere.”
CHAPTER XXV
CHRISTMAS AT THE FARM
“What do you think of that?”
“Isn’t that the greatest ever!”
“Well, I’m sorry for Tad.”
Such were the exclamations from the three Rover boys after listening to Bill Dangler’s declaration that the lad who had run away from Putnam Hall was the nephew of Merrick.
“Are you certain of this?” asked Dick.
“Certainly I am. But why are you so interested in Merrick’s sister and her son?”
“I will tell you,” answered Tom. “Tad Sobber used to go to school with us, but he ran away a short while ago and we haven’t heard from him since.”
“Phew! so that’s it! Maybe he’s with his uncle.”
“Like as not. I wonder if he knows his uncle is a thief?”
“I don’t know anything about that. Sid Merrick is a sly one and can put on the most innocent front you ever saw.”
“What do you know about Pike?”
“Oh, John Pike is only a tool, same as I was.”
After that Bill Dangler seemed anxious to relieve his mind, and he related many of the particulars of the freight robberies. He said that all had been planned by Sid Merrick, and that two other men were implicated besides himself and Pike and named the men. He said that Merrick had sold the stolen stuff in various large cities.
“Did he divide with the others?” asked Dick.
“He was supposed to do it, but I don’t think any of us ever got our full share.”
Old Derringham listened to the thief’s recital with keen interest. But presently he rushed forward and caught Bill Dangler by the arm.
“I want you to go!” he cried, almost fiercely. “I want no thief under my roof!”
“He shall go, and at once,” declared Dick. “It is getting late, and it is a long tramp to Oak Run.”
“He owes me a dollar for keeping him several days,” went on the old man.
“Then he had better pay you,” said Tom.
Dangler wanted to demur, but in the end he paid for his board, and then the whole party left, the old man gazing after them curiously. That he had been entirely innocent in the affair there could not be the slightest doubt.
“Now, Dangler, it won’t do you any good to try to get away,” said Dick, as they tramped along through the snow. “We are four to one and armed.”
“I won’t try to run away,” was the dogged answer.
“If you give the authorities all the help you can, perhaps, when it comes to a trial, they will be a little easy on you,” put in Tom.
“I hope so. I was coaxed into this. I used to be an honest man,” responded the freight thief.
“Well, before you die, you’ll learn that ‘honesty is the best policy,’” observed Sam.
“I’ve learned that already. I’ve lost all my old friends, and I can’t show myself anywhere any more.”
The crowd had to tramp a good mile and a half before they reached a farmhouse where they could procure a team and a sleigh big enough to take all of them to Oak Run. Then they set off at a fast pace and at about supper time reached the Rover farm.
Those at the farm were much astonished at the “game brought in,” as Anderson Rover declared. The boys waited long enough to get a meal, and gave the prisoner something to eat, and then they set off for Oak Run with their father and Dangler. Here the freight thief was placed in the custody of the local constable, who locked the man up in the garret of his own home.
That night and the next day the telegraph and telephone were kept busy, and some officers of the law from Ithaca visited the old Sobber homestead. They found the place deserted and no trace of Merrick, Pike or Tad Sobber was to be found.
“It is too bad,” declared Dick, when the news came in. “I thought sure we’d round up the rascals.”
From the authorities the boys learned one thing—that the Sobber homestead was on the same road that ran past the Stanhope cottage.
“That may account for Merrick coming and looking in the window that night,” said Dick. “Maybe he was traveling past and wanted to see what was going on.”
“More than likely he was looking for a chance to rob the place,” was Tom’s grim comment.
On Christmas day the boys received a number of valuable presents and gave everybody presents in return. There was a grand family dinner, such as only their aunt Martha could prepare, and it is needless to say that all did full justice to the spread. After dinner the lads went out snowballing and got Aleck Pop and Jack Ness to do the same. The boys snowballed the colored man and Jack Ness so vigorously that the pair had to run for the barn.
“My sakes alibe, boys!” cried Aleck Pop, after he had received a snowball in the ear. “Yo’ dun work yo’ snowballs lik da was comin’ from a Gatling gun!”
During the week between Christmas and New Year, Bill Dangler was removed to the county jail, there to await the action of the grand jury. In the meantime the authorities continued the hunt for Merrick, Pike and the others, but without success.
“I’d really like to know what has become of Tad Sobber,” remarked Dick. “It is a pity if he is dependent upon such a fellow as Merrick for his support.”
“Perhaps his mother left him money,” said Tom.
At last came the day when the boys returned to Putnam Hall. On the train they fell in with Larry Colby and George Granbury, and told of what they had learned.
“I heard from Nick Pell yesterday,” said Larry. “He is getting better gradually, but it will be some time before he is himself again.”
“Does he still blame Tad Sobber?”
“Yes, and he says he will never have anything to do with Sobber again.”
“Nobody can blame him for that,” said Sam.
“I don’t believe Sobber will ever return to Putnam Hall,” came from Tom. “Especially when he finds out that we know he is the nephew of such a swindler as Merrick.”
In a few days the boys settled down again to their studies. The Rovers were exceedingly anxious to make records for themselves, and whenever a lesson was too hard for Tom or Sam, Dick helped them all he could. The eldest Rover boy was sorry he had missed his former position by being absent, but he was delighted to know that he and his brothers would now finish their schooling at Putnam Hall together.
“I couldn’t bear to think of being separated from you,” he said to Tom and Sam.
“We don’t want to be separated,” returned Tom.
“That’s the talk!” declared Sam. “We’ll stick together always!”
About a week after the return to school the snow cleared away and then came a cold snap that made excellent skating. At once all the boys got out their skates, and during their off hours they had great fun on the lake.
One afternoon a race was arranged between half a dozen boys, including Dick, Larry Colby and Peter Slade. Slade was sure he would win, and went around boasting of it.
“I have been in six races on skates,” he declared, “and I won every one of them.”
“He must be a famous skater,” said Tom, when he learned of this. “Dick, I don’t think you’ll stand much show against him.”
“I don’
t know. Do you know what I think of Peter Slade? I think he is a big blower.”
“I think that myself. Still, if he has won six races he must know something about racing.”
“Well, if I lose I shan’t cry over it,” said Dick, and there the talk ended.
The race was to be for two miles,—a mile up the lake shore and a mile back. At the appointed hour the contestants lined up, and at a word from George Strong, who had consented to start them, they were off.
It was easy to see that Peter Slade was a good skater, and with hardly an effort he went to the front during the first quarter of the race. But then Larry and Dick began to push him, and when the mile turn was made Larry was but two yards in the rear, with Dick almost on his heels.
“Go it, Slade, you can win easily!”
“Catch him, Larry!”
“Put on more steam, Dick!” yelled Tom, enthusiastically.
And then the turning point was passed by all the racers and the struggle on the homestretch commenced.
CHAPTER XXVI
THE SKATING RACE
For nearly half a mile Peter Slade kept the lead with ease, but then his breath began to fail him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw both Larry and Dick crawling up.
“No, you don’t!” he muttered, and put on a fresh burst of speed that increased his lead by two yards.
“Peter Slade is going to win!”
“See how he is running away from the others!”
So the cries arose and it certainly looked as if the youth mentioned could not possibly be defeated.
But now both Larry and Dick “dug in for all they were worth,” as they themselves expressed it. While there was yet a quarter of a mile to be covered Dick made a spurt and ranged up alongside of his chum.
“Sorry, but I’ve got to go ahead!” he cried, gaily.
“Come on, we’ll both go!” yelled Larry, good naturedly, and then the pair put on a fresh effort and in a moment ranged up on either side of Peter Slade.
“Hullo, they are in a line!”
“There goes Larry Colby ahead!”
“Dick Rover is going with him!”
“Say, but that is skating, eh? Just look at Dick strike out!”
“Sandwick is coming up, too!”
“And so is Marley!”
The last reports were true. The fourth and fifth boy were now directly behind Slade. As Dick and Larry shot ahead, still side by side, Sandwick overtook Slade and so did Marley. In the meantime the sixth boy had lost a skate and dropped out.
With a final desperate effort Peter Slade tried to gain first place. But his wind was gone and his strength also, and he dropped back further and further.
“Hurrah, here they come!”
“It’s a tie race between Dick and Larry!”
“Marley is third!”
“Yes, and Sandwick fourth.”
“Peter Slade is fifth.”
“Humph! And Peter said he was bound to win!”
Then over the line shot the skaters, Dick and Larry side by side and laughing merrily. As soon as the race was ended they locked arms to show their good feeling. Then Marley came in with Sandwick at his heels. In deep disgust Peter Slade refused to finish, but circled to one side and hurried to the boathouse, there to take off his skates and disappear.
“It was a well-skated race,” declared George Strong. Then he asked Dick and Larry if they wanted to skate off the tie.
“We won’t bother,” said Dick, after consulting his chum. “We are satisfied to let it stand as it is, considering that there was no prize to be awarded.”
The fact that he had lost the skating race made Peter Slade more sour than ever, and after that, whenever he met Dick, he glared at the eldest Rover boy defiantly.
“He acts as if he had a personal grudge against me,” said Dick to his brothers.
“Well, he acts that way to me, too,” answered Tom.
“He ought to have his head punched well,” was Sam’s comment.
Peter Slade did not seem to care that Larry had beaten him—his enmity was directed mainly at Dick.
Slade was in one of the lower classes, but one day one of the teachers announced a lecture on the battleships of the American navy, and a large number of boys came in to listen and to take notes.
In the midst of the lecture Dick had occasion to pass down one of the aisles. As he went by Peter Slade the latter put out his hand and hit him in the knee. Slade’s hand had ink on it and the ink went on Dick’s clean uniform.
“What did you do that for?” demanded Dick, halting.
“Shut up!” whispered Slade, uglily.
“I’ve a good mind to box your ears,” went on Dick.
“Will you?” roared the bully, leaping up. “Just try it!” And so speaking he made a pass at Dick’s head.
The blow landed on Dick’s shoulder, leaving an ink mark behind it. The eldest Rover boy had leaped to one side. But now he leaped forward, and a well-directed blow from his fist sent Slade reeling backward over a desk.
“Stop that!” cried the teacher, in alarm, and brought his lecture to an abrupt end.
“A fight! A fight!” cried several of the boys, and left their seats to surround Dick and the bully.
Slade was dazed for a moment, but on recovering he sprang at Dick and tried to force him to the floor. Around and around went the pair, bumping against the desks and sending some books to the floor. The teacher tried to get at them, but before he could do so they had separated. Then Dick hit Slade a telling blow in the left eye which caused the bully to fall into a nearby seat.
“Stop, this instant!” cried the teacher, and then turning to some of the boys added: “Summon Captain Putnam at once.”
The room was in an uproar, and many wanted Dick and Slade to continue the battle. But the punch in the eye had taken away the bully’s courage and he did not get up to continue the contest.
“What does this mean?” demanded Captain Putnam, as he came in, and he faced Dick and Slade sternly.
“It means that that fellow ought to have a good thrashing, sir,” answered Dick, boldly, and pointed at the bully.
“It’s his fault, it ain’t mine,” put in Peter Slade, hastily. “He started it.”
“That is not true, Captain Putnam. I was passing his seat when he reached out and smeared ink on my knee,” and Dick pointed down to his soiled trousers. “I wasn’t going to stand for that and told him so. Then he jumped up and hit me in the shoulder, leaving more ink on me. After that I hit him.”
“It ain’t so!” roared Peter Slade.
“That’s the truth,” said several. “Peter’s hand is full of ink.”
“He knocked over an inkwell just before Dick came along,” said Fred. “I saw him do it.”
“So did I,” added Songbird.
“Did you see it?” questioned Captain Putnam of the instructor.
“I saw nothing until the boys were fighting in the aisle,” answered the teacher who had been delivering the lecture.
“Captain Putnam, I am sure Dick Rover is not to blame,” said a very quiet student named Rames. “Slade put the ink on Rover and struck the first blow—of that I am positive.”
“It was my inkwell he knocked over,” came from another lad. “I told him to leave it alone, but he wouldn’t mind me.”
“Oh, you are all against me!” roared Peter Slade.
“Evidently you are guilty,” said the master of the Hall, sternly. “I want both you and Richard Rover to come to my office. Rames, you can come, too, and you also, Brocton.”
In the office a thorough investigation was held. Several other cadets were called upon to testify, and it was proved that Peter Slade was entirely to blame for what had occurred.
“You should not have attacked him, Richard,” said the captain to Dick. “But
under the circumstances I cannot blame you. You may go.”
For his misconduct Peter Slade was confined in the “guardhouse” for three days. The black eye Dick had given him did not go away very fast and when he came out and resumed his place among the students he was a sight to behold. That he was very angry at the eldest Rover boy is easily imagined.
“I’ll fix him some day,” he muttered.
“Dick, you want to watch Slade,” said Tom, one day, on passing the bully in the hallway.
“I guess you had better watch him yourself, Tom.”
“I am going to do that, don’t fear. What did the captain do about your mussed-up uniform?”
“Made Slade pay for having it cleaned.”
“Did he do it?”
“He had to do it—Captain Putnam put it on the bill to his folks.”
“That was right.”
“Of course it was. But I understand it made Slade as mad as hops. Oh, he surely has it in for us,” went on Dick, and there the subject was dropped.
CHAPTER XXVII
ON THE LAKE
Almost before the boys knew it winter was gone and spring was at hand. The ice on the lake disappeared like magic, and the hills back of Putnam Hall took on a fresh greenness pleasant to behold.
With the coming of warm weather the cadets spent a large part of their off time outdoors. Some took up rowing, and among the number were Sam and Tom. Larry Colby had become the owner of a fair-sized sloop, and he frequently took some of his chums out for a cruise up or down the lake.
“Do you know what I’d like to do?” said Dick one day. “I’d like to visit that old Sobber homestead and see how it looks.”
“I’ve often thought of that,” answered Sam. “Wonder how we can manage it?”
The matter was talked over in Larry’s presence, and the cadet who owned the sloop said they might make the trip in that craft, provided the master of Putnam Hall would give them the desired permission.
“We’ll ask Captain Putnam at once,” declared Dick.
Permission was granted to leave Putnam Hall early on the following Saturday morning, provided the weather was clear, and it was arranged that the party should consist of the three Rover boys, Larry, Fred and Songbird. The captain said he preferred that they come back Saturday night, but they could remain away over Sunday if they found it necessary.
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