“And now back to the grind,” said Tom with a little sigh.
“Never mind. Remember summer will soon be here,” answered Sam. “And then we can go on a dandy trip somewhere.”
The next day found them back at Brill. This was Saturday, and the school sessions were resumed on Monday. They went at their studies with a will, resolved to get marks that would be “worth while” at the June examinations. They were asked to join the college basketball team, but declined, and took regular gymnasium exercise instead. Much to their surprise, Dudd Flockley was put on the team.
“I don’t think that dude will make good,” said Tom, and he was right. Flockley made some bad errors during the first game played, and was lectured so severely that he left the team in disgust, and Songbird Powell was put in his place. Then the team won three games straight, which pleased all the students of Brill greatly. Minnie Sanderson was at two of the games, and she applauded Songbird heartily. The two were certainly warm friends. Dick spoke to Minnie, but did not keep himself long in her company.
At last, after waiting much longer than they had expected, the boys received letters from Dora and the Lanings. The girls had been on a visit to some relatives in Philadelphia, and had just received the letters mailed from Oak Run.
The three Rovers read those letters with deep interest. They told about what the girls had been doing, and related the particulars of the trouble at Hope Seminary. It was all Tad Sobber’s work, they said, and added that Sobber had written that he would not only get the treasure, but also disgrace them all he possibly could.
“The rascal!”, muttered Dick when he read this. “He ought to be put in prison!”
Dora’s letter to Dick was an especially tender epistle, and he read it several times in secret. He was glad that the misunderstanding between them was being cleared away. He wished she might be near, so that he could go and see her.
“I’d take a run to Cedarville if it wasn’t so far,” he told his brothers.
“I’d go along,” answered Tom, and Sam said the same.
“Perhaps we can run up there during the spring vacation,” went on Dick.
There was little more snow that winter, but the weather remained bitterly cold until well into February. The boys had considerable fun snowballing, and skating on the river. Racing on skates was a favorite amusement, and Sam and Tom won in a number of contests.
One day Tom was skating by himself. He was doing some fancy figures, and he did not notice the approach of Jerry Koswell, who was skating with a young lady from Ashton. Tom came around in a circle, and Jerry, who was looking at the young lady instead of where he was going, bumped into Tom. Both of the students went down, Tom on top.
“Hi! What do you mean by this?” burst out Koswell in a rage.
“What do you mean?” retorted Tom, getting up.
“You knocked me down on purpose!” howled Jerry.
“It was as much your fault as mine.”
“It wasn’t my fault at all. I’ve a good mind to punch your face!” And having gotten to his feet, Koswell doubled up his fists threateningly.
At this the young lady let out a scream.
“Oh, please don’t fight!” she cried. And then she skated to a distance and disappeared in a crowd.
“You keep your distance, Koswell,” said Tom coldly. “If you don’t—”
He got no further, for just then Koswell let out with his right fist. The blow landed on Tom’s shoulder and sent him spinning away a distance of several feet.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE SPRINGTIME OF LIFE
“A fight! a fight!” came from the crowd, and soon Tom and Koswell were surrounded by a number of students and some outsiders.
The blow from the bully angered Tom greatly, and skating forward he made a pass at Koswell. But the latter ducked, and then came back at Tom with a blow that sent the fun-loving Rover into several students standing by.
“Say, Rover, look out, or Jerry Koswell will eat you up!” said one of the seniors.
“Koswell is a good scrapper,” came from another.
“I gave him one lesson and I can give him another,” answered Tom. “There, take that!”
He turned swiftly and rushed at Koswell. One blow after another was delivered with telling accuracy, and Koswell went flat on his back on the ice. When he got up his nose was bleeding.
“I’ll fix you!” he roared. “Come on to shore and take off your skates!”
“I’m willing,” answered Tom recklessly. He knew fighting was against the rules of the college, but he was not going to cry quits.
The pair moved toward the shore, the crowd still surrounding them. They soon had their skates off.
“Now, Jerry, do him up brown!” came from Larkspur, who was present.
“Give him the thrashing of his life!” added Flockley, who had come up.
“He has got to spell able first, and he doesn’t know the alphabet well enough to do it!” answered Tom.
“What’s up?” cried a voice from the rear of the crowd, and Dick appeared, followed by Sam.
“Koswell attacked me, and wants to fight, and I am going to accommodate him,” said Tom.
“Don’t you butt in!” growled Koswell.
“I won’t,” answered Dick. “But I want to see fair play.” He knew it would be useless to attempt to get Tom to give up the fight.
Without preliminaries the two faced each other, and Koswell made a savage rush at Tom, aiming a blow for his face. Tom ducked, and landed on his opponent’s chest. Then Koswell hit Tom on the arm and Tom came back at him with one on the chin. Then they clinched, went down, and rolled over and over.
“Stop, you rascal!” cried Tom suddenly. “Can’t you fight fair?”
“What’s up?” asked Dick, leaping forward.
“He bit me in the wrist!”
“I—I didn’t do anything of the kind!” howled Jerry Koswell.
“Break away, both of you!” ordered Dick. “We’ll see into this.”
Tom let go, but Koswell continued to hold fast. Seeing this, Dick forced the two apart and both scrambled up.
“See here, this isn’t your fight!” said Larkspur to Dick.
“It will be yours if you don’t shut up!” answered Dick, so sharply that Larkspur shrunk back in alarm.
“I didn’t bite him!” grumbled Koswell.
“He did—right here!” answered Tom positively. “Look!”
He pulled up his sleeve and showed his wrist. There in the flesh were the indentations of a set of teeth.
“You coward!” said Sam. “You ought to be drummed out of Brill!”
“That’s worse than using a sandbag,” added Dick.
“I—I didn’t do it,” muttered Koswell. He looked around as if he wanted to slink out of sight.
“You did!” cried Tom. “And take that for it!” And before the brute of a youth could ward off the blow he received Tom’s fist in his right eye. Then he got one in the other eye and another in the nose that made the blood spurt freely. He tried to defend himself, but Tom was “fighting mad,” and his blows came so rapidly that Koswell was knocked around like a tenpin and sent bumping, first into Flockley, then into Larkspur, and then into some bushes, where he lay, panting for breath.
“Now have you had enough?” demanded Tom, while the crowd marveled at his quickness and staying powers.
“I—I—” stammered Koswell.
“If you’ve had enough, say so,” went on Tim. “If not, I’ll give you some more.”
“I—I’m sick,” murmured Koswell. “I was sick this morning when I got up. I’ll—I’ll finish this with you some other day.”
“All right, Koswell,” answered Tom coolly. “But when you go at it again, do it fairly, or you’ll get the worst of it. Remember that!”
“Hurrah for T
om Rover!” was the cry from Stanley, and the cheer was taken up on all sides. Jerry Koswell sneaked away as soon as he could, and Flockley and Larkspur followed him.
“He’ll have it in for you, Tom,” said Sam as he and his brothers got away from the crowd. “Most likely he is mad enough to do anything.”
“Oh, he was mad before,” declared Tom. “I am not afraid of him.”
Everybody thought there might be another fight in the near future, but day after day went by and Koswell made no move, nor did he even notice Tom. He kept with Flockley and Larkspur, and the three were often noticed consulting together.
At last winter was over, and the warm breath of Spring filled the air. Much to the pleasure of the boys, they got news that Dora, Nellie and Grace were going to return to Hope, regardless of the reports that had been circulated about them.
“Good! That’s what I call pluck!” cried Dick.
They learned when the girls would arrive at Ashton, and got permission to go to town to meet them. It must be confessed that all of them were a trifle nervous, in spite of the warm letters that had been sent.
When the train came in they rushed for the parlor car, and then what a handshaking and greeting followed all around! Everybody was talking at once, and after the first minute or two there was nothing but smiles and laughter.
“I am so sorry that—you know,” whispered Dick to Dora.
“So am I,” she answered, “What geese we are, aren’t we?”
“Well, we won’t have any more misunderstandings, will we?” he went on, squeezing her hand.
“Never!” she declared, and gave him an arch look. “And you say Songbird is—is—”
“Going with Miss Sanderson? Yes; and they are as thick as two peas. But, Dora, I never was—er—very friendly with her. I—I—”
“But you—you talked to her at that football game, Dick. And you didn’t meet me when Sam—”
“I know. But I had to find her a seat, after she about asked me to. I wanted to be with you, I did really, dear.”
“Who said you could call me dear?” And now her eyes were as bright as stars.
“I said so, and I’m going to—when we are alone. The future Mrs. Dick Rover deserves it,” he went on boldly, but in a very low voice.
“Oh, Dick, you’re awful!” cried Dora, and blushed. But somehow she appeared mightily pleased.
The boys drove the girls to the seminary, and by the time the boarding-school was reached all were on the best of terms once more.
“Mamma wanted us to come back,” explained Dora. “She says, even if we do lose that fortune she wants me to have a better education, and she will pay the bill for Nellie and Grace, too.”
“It will make the Lanings quite poor, I am afraid, if the fortune is lost,” replied Dick gravely.
“I know it, Dick, but we’ll have to take what comes.”
“Have you heard from Sobber or his lawyer lately?”
“Nothing since he threatened to disgrace us.”
“You must watch out for him. If he attempts to bother you while you are here let us know at once.”
“We will.”
“I hope the case in court is decided soon, and in your favor.”
“Say, stop!” cried Tom, as they were turning into the gate at the seminary.
“What’s up?” asked Sam, while Dick halted the team he was driving.
“Here comes a buggy along the side road. Just look who is in it!”
All turned to look in the direction of the turnout which was approaching. As it came closer the Rover boys recognized it as one belonging to Mr. Sanderson. On the front seat sat Songbird, driving, with Minnie Sanderson beside him. On the rear seat was William Philander Tubbs, in company with one of Minnie’s friends—a girl the Rovers had met while nutting.
“There’s a happy crowd!” cried Tom after they had passed and bowed and smiled.
“No happier than we are,” said Dick as he looked meaningly at Dora.
“You are right, Dick,” she answered very earnestly.
CHAPTER XXIV
AT THE HAUNTED HOUSE
“Boys, I’ve got a proposition to make,” said Dick, one Friday afternoon, as he and his brothers, with Songbird and Stanley, were strolling along the river bank.
“All right. We’ll accept it for twenty-five cents on the dollar,” returned Tom gaily.
“What is it, Dick?” asked Songbird.
“Do you remember the haunted house at Rushville, the place Mr. Sanderson called the Jamison home?” asked Dick of his brothers.
“Sure!” returned Sam and Tom promptly.
“Well, I propose we visit that house tomorrow and investigate the ghosts—if there are any.”
“Just the thing!” cried Sam.
“I’ve heard of that place,” said Stanley. “I am willing to go if the rest are.”
“If I go as far as Rushville I might as well go on to the Sanderson home,” said Songbird, who could not get Minnie out of his mind.
“Well, we’ll leave you off—after we have interviewed the ghosts,” answered Dick with a laugh.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” asked Stanley with a faint smile.
“No. Do you?”
“Hardly, although I have heard some queer stories. My aunt used to think she had seen ghosts.”
“She was mistaken,” said Tom. “There are no real ghosts.”
“Say, Tom, how could a ghost be real and still be a ghost?” asked Songbird and this question brought forth a general laugh.
The boys sat down on a bench in the warm sunshine to discuss the proposed visit to the deserted Jamison place, and it was arranged that they should drive to the spot in a two-seated carriage. Then, while the Rovers and Stanley investigated to their hearts’ content, Songbird was to drive on to the Sanderson home for a brief visit.
“But, mind, you are not to stay too long,” said Dick. “An hour is the limit.”
“I’ll make it an hour by the watch,” answered the would-be poet. “Say, I just thought of something,” he went on, and murmured softly:
“Tomorrow, ere the hour is late,
We shall go forth to investigate.
The Jamison ghost
Shall be our host;
We trust we’ll meet a kindly fate!”
“That’s as cheerful as a funeral dirge!” cried Tom.
“We don’t want to meet any kind of a fate,” added Sam. “We want to have some fun.”
While the boys were discussing the proposed trip to Rushville they did not notice that Larkspur was close at hand, taking in much that was said. Presently Larkspur sauntered off and hunted up Jerry Koswell.
“The Rovers are going off tomorrow,” he said. “Where do you suppose they are going?”
“I am not good at guessing riddles,” answered Koswell rather sourly. He hated to hear the Rover name mentioned, since it made him think of his defeat at Tom’s hands.
“They are going to the old Jamison place at Rushville.”
“Well, what of it?”
“I was thinking,” answered Larkspur meaningly. “You said you would like to square up with the Rovers, and with Tom especially.”
“So I would. Show me how it can be done and I’ll go at it in jig time.” And now Koswell was all attention.
“I happen to know that Tom Rover and Professor Sharp are on the outs again,” said Larkspur. “The professor wouldn’t like anything better than to catch him doing something against the rules.”
“Well, what do you propose, anyway?” demanded Jerry Koswell.
“Come up to the room and I’ll tell you,” answered Larkspur, and then the two hurried off and, joined by Dudd Flockley, hatched out a scheme to get the Rovers into dire trouble with the college authorities. They had a number of preparations to make, and paid a
hurried visit to Ashton and several other places, Flockley hiring a runabout for that purpose.
Saturday proved clear and warm, and the Rovers and their friends started directly after lunch for Rushville in a two-seated carriage, hired from a liveryman of Ashton. As they did not wish to excite any curiosity, they told Tubbs and Max that they were going out merely for a long ride.
“Going to call on Miss Stanhope and the Misses Laning, I suppose,” said William Philander.
“No. They have some lessons to make up today,” answered Dick, and this was true; otherwise the Rovers might not have been so willing to spend their time at the haunted house.
No sooner had the Rovers and their two friends driven away from Brill than an automobile dashed up on the side road, and Flockley, Koswell and Larkspur climbed in. The automobile kept to the side road until the Rovers turnout was passed, then took to the main highway, passing the upper end of Ashton.
“Here is where you can leave us,” said Koswell to the chauffeur. “I’ll see to it that the machine comes back safely.”
“You are sure about being able to run it?” asked the man.
“Of course. I ran a big six-cylinder at home.”
“Very well, then. This is a fine car, and there would be trouble with the boss if anything happened to it.”
“Nothing is going to happen, so don’t worry,” answered Koswell coolly. Then the chauffeur left, and the automobile dashed on its way in the direction of Rushville.
As the Rovers and their chums were out purely for pleasure, they took their time in driving to Rushville, going there by way of Hope Seminary. They thought they might catch sight of Dora and the Lanings, but were disappointed.
“Too bad that they have got to grind away on such a fine day as this,” said Dick.
“Well, such is life,” returned Sam. “One good thing, schooldays won’t last forever.”
“Just wait till the summer vacation comes!” cried Tom. “I’m going to have the best time anybody ever heard about.”
“What doing?” questioned Stanley.
“Oh, I don’t know yet.”
They took their time climbing the long hill leading to the haunted house, and it was just three o’clock when they came in sight of the dilapidated structure, almost hidden in the tangle of trees and underbrush.
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