After the events just narrated several days passed quietly enough at Putnam Hall. In the meantime the weather continued clear, and the boys took it upon themselves to clear off a part of the lake for skating. Then, one night came a strong wind, and the next morning they found a space of cleared ice nearly half a mile long.
"Now for some fine skating!" exclaimed Tom, as he rushed back to the Hall after an inspection of the lake's smooth surface. "We can have all the racing we wish."
"It's a pity Sam can't go out yet," returned Dick. Sam was back to the school, but his cold had not entirely left him.
"Never mind; here are several new magazines he can read," returned Tom, who had been to town with Snuggers on an errand and had purchased them at the stationery store.
"I would just as soon read now," said Sam. "The magazines look mighty interesting."
Just then Fred Garrison came in, accompanied by George Granbury. They had been down to Cedarville to purchase some skates and a new pair of shoes for George.
"Hullo, what do you think we saw in Cedarville!" cried Fred, as soon as he caught sight of the Rovers.
"Lots of snow," suggested Tom dryly.
"Yes—and more."
"A mighty dull town," suggested Sam.
"We saw Dan Baxter."
"What was he doing?"
"He was walking down the street. And who do you suppose was with him? Mr. Grinder!"
"Grinder!" came simultaneously from Tom and Dick.
"Yes, Grinder. And they seemed to be on good terms with each other," put in George.
"I could hardly believe my eyes at first," went on Fred. "But there they were, as plain as day."
"It's very odd," mused Dick. "What should bring them together?"
Nobody could answer that question.
"I don't believe they are up to any good," said Tom.
"I hope Grinder doesn't join hands with Baxter in plotting against us," came from Dick.
The matter was talked over for some time, but no satisfactory conclusion could be reached, and presently the boys separated, some to go skating and others to attend to their studies for the morrow.
Down at the lake the scene was an animated one. Boys were flying in every direction, and mingled with them were a dozen or more girls and a few grown persons. George Strong, the head teacher, was there, enjoying himself fully as much as the pupils who loved him.
"I'll race you, Mr. Strong!" sang out one of the older boys, Tom Mardell.
"Done, Master Mardell," was the teacher's answer. "To yonder rock and return." And in a moment more the pair were off.
"Hurrah! A race between Mr. Strong and Tom Mardell!" came in a shout from a number of the students, and soon there was a general "lining up" to see how it would terminate.
"Go in, Tom!" shouted Tom Rover. "Don't let him beat you!"
"Mr. Strong is behind!" came presently. "Tom is going to win out, sure!"
On and on went the skaters, until the rock was gained. Then Tom Mardell turned so suddenly that he ran full tilt into the teacher with whom he was racing. Both spun around and came down on the ice with a crash.
"Oh!" gasped Mardell. "I didn't mean to do that!"
"I—I know you didn't!" panted Mr. Strong. "You have finished the race in fine shape, I must declare!" And then he arose slowly to his feet and Mardell followed. But nobody was seriously hurt, and in a moment more both skated off hand in hand.
Dick was looking for Dora Stanhope, and presently she appeared, in a pretty fur coat and a jaunty fur cap. He put on her skates for her, and they skated off, with many a side wink from some of the boys.
"Dick's head over heels," said one lad, to Tom.
"Well, I guess you'd be, too, Urner, if you could get such a nice girl to notice you," returned Tom dryly. And then he added: "You must remember we are all old friends."
"Oh, I know that; and I was only joking."
A grand race, open to all comers, had been arranged by the students of the Hall and of Pornell Academy, a rival institute of learning, which has already figured in other volumes of this series. The Pornell boys were out in force, and they were sure that one of their number would win the silver napkin ring, which was the first prize, and another the story book, which constituted the second prize.
Of this race a gentleman from Cedarville, named Mr. Richards, was to be the starter and judge. The course was a short mile, down the lake and back again. The Pornell boys to enter were named Gray, Wardham, Gussy, and De Long. The contestants from Putnam Hall were Tom Rover, Fred Garrison, Tubbs, and a lad named Hollbrook.
"Are you ready?" asked Mr. Richards, after lining the boys up and telling them of the conditions of the race.
There was a dead silence.
"Go!" shouted the starter.
Away went the eight skaters, side by side each striking out bravely. Fred was in the lead, with two Pornell boys a close second, while Tom Rover was fourth.
"Go in, Tom, you must win!" sang out Dick excitedly.
"Hurrah for Tubby!" came from several others. "He's crawling up!"
"Go in, Gray!" came in a shout from some Pornell sympathizers. Gray was one of the pair striving for second place. Now he shot ahead, and in a second more was close upon Fred Garrison's heels.
The pace was truly terrific from the very start, and long before the turn was gained De Long and Hollbrook dropped out, satisfied that they could not win.
Gray, the leader of the Pornell contingent, was a tall, lanky, and powerful fellow, and every stroke he took told well in his favor. The turning point was hardly rounded when he began to crawl up to Fred, and then he gradually passed him.
"Hurrah! Gray is ahead!" shouted his friends.
"Here is where Pornell wins the race!" added one enthusiastic sympathizer.
Fred's pace had been too sharp from the very start, and now he slowly but surely dropped back to second place, and then to third.
But then Tom Rover began to crawl up. He had held himself slightly in reserve. Now he "let himself out." Whiz! whiz! went the polished pair of steels under him, and soon Wardham, the fellow who had held second place, was passed, dropping behind Fred, thus taking fourth place. Then Tom came up on Gray's heels.
"Hurrah for Tom Rover!"
"Go it, Tom, don't let him beat you!"
"Go it Gray, Tom Rover is at your heels!"
Gray did not dare to look back, but at the latter cry he did his best to increase his speed. So did Tom, and while the finishing line was still a hundred yards distant he came up side by side with Gray.
"It's a tie!"
"No, Gray is a little ahead yet!"
"Go in, Gray, don't let him beat you!"
"Tom Rover to the front! Go it, Tom, for the glory of old Putnam Hall!"
A wild yelling broke out on every side. On and on went the two boys, with Fred Garrison not two yards behind them. That the finish would be a close one there was no question. The line was but a hundred feet away; now but seventy-five; now but fifty. Still the leaders kept side by side, neither gaining an inch. Surely it would be a tie. The yelling increased until the noise was deafening.
And then of a sudden Tom Rover shot ahead. How it was done nobody knew, and Tom himself couldn't explain it when asked afterward. But ahead he went, like an arrow shot from a bow, and crossed the line six feet in advance of Gray.
"Hurrah! Tom Rover has won!"
"Told you Tom would do it!"
"Three cheers for Putnam Hall!"
"And Fred Garrison came in only one yard behind Gray, too, and Tubby is a pretty good fourth."
"This is Putnam Hall day, thank you!"
The cheering increased, and Tom was immediately surrounded by a host of admirers.
Gray felt very sore, and wanted to leave the pond at once, but before he could do so Tom skated up to him and held out his hand.
"You came pretty close to beating me," he said. "I can't really say how I got ahead at the finish."
"I—I guess my skate slipped, or something," stammered Gray, and shook hands. Tom's candor took away the keen edge of the defeat.
The Putnam Hall boys were wild with delight, and insisted upon carrying Tom on their shoulders around the pond. A great crowd followed, and nobody noticed how this made the ice bend and crack.
"Be careful there!" shouted Mr. Strong warningly. "There are too many of you in a bunch!" But ere he had finished the sentence there came another loud cracking, and in a twinkle a section of the ice went down, plunging fully a dozen lads into the icy water below.
"The ice has gone down!"
"Some of the boys will be drowned!"
"Get some boards and a rope, quick!"
These and a score of other cries rang out. In the meantime those near to the hole skated with all speed to one place of safety or another.
Some of the imperiled boys who had not gone down very deeply managed to scramble out with wet feet or wet lower limbs only, but when the crowd had drawn back it was seen that three boys were floundering in the chilling water over their heads. These boys were George Granbury and Frank Harrington, who had been supporting Tom on their shoulders, and Tom himself, who had been dropped into the opening head first by the frightened lads.
Realizing that something must be done at once, Mr. Strong ran to the boathouse, which was close at hand, and soon reappeared, carrying a long plank. He was followed by a boy with a rope, and several boys brought more planks and more ropes.
Illustration: THE MISHAP ON THE ICE.—P. 73. Rover Boys in the Mountains.
When the first plank was pushed out Tom lost no time in grasping hold of it. He crawled to a safe place on hands and knees, but was so nearly paralyzed he could not stand up.
"I'll carry him up to the Hall," said Peleg Snuggers, who had chanced upon the scene, and without ceremony he picked Tom up in his strong arms and made off for the school building on a run.
After Tom came Frank Harrington, who caught hold of one end of a rope tossed toward the hole. As soon as he shouted he had the rope secure, a dozen boys pulled upon it, and Frank was literally dragged from his icy bath. Once on shore he was started on a run for the Hall, some boys rushing ahead to obtain dry clothing for both him and the others.
Poor George Granbury was now the only one left in danger, and matters appeared to be going hard with him. He clutched at one of the planks thrust toward him, but his hold slipped and down he went out of sight.
"He'll be drowned! He's too cold to save himself!" was the cry of several who were watching him.
"Be careful, boys!" came warningly from Mr. Strong. "Be careful, or somebody else will get in!"
"Mr. Strong, if you will hold the plank, I'll crawl out and get hold of Granbury," came from Dick, in a determined voice.
"Rover, can you do it?"
"I feel certain I can. Hold tight, please."
Dick leaped upon the plank and threw himself flat. Then he crawled out as fast as he could, until he was on the end over the open water. Holding to the plank with one hand he reached out to grasp George's shoulder with the other.
"Sa—save me!" gasped the drowning boy.
"Give me your hand, George," called Dick.
Granbury tried to do so, but the effort was a failure, for the cold had so numbed him he could scarcely move. Reaching as far as he could, Dick caught a portion of his coat and drew the helpless boy toward him.
The ice cracked ominously, but did not break. Mr. Strong warned the others still further back.
Slowly but surely Dick raised George to a level of the plank. Then with an extra effort he hauled the half-drowned boy up.
"Now haul in on the plank," he called, and Mr. Strong and two boys did so immediately. In a moment more danger from drowning was a thing of the past for George Granbury.
A cheer went up because of Dick's heroic action, but this was instantly hushed as George was seen to stagger back and fall as if dead. Instantly Mr. Strong picked the boy up in his arms and ran toward the Hall.
"Oh, Dick, how noble of you!" It was Dora Stanhope who spoke, as she came up and placed a trembling little hand on his arm. "And how glad I am that you didn't get in while doing it." And her eyes filled with tears.
"I—I'm glad too, Dora," he said brokenly. And then added: "Excuse me, but I guess I'd better go up and see how Tom is making out."
"To be sure, and let me know if it's all right," she replied.
Once inside the Hall Dick learned that Tom had been put into a warm bed. He was apparently none the worse for his mishap, and likely to be as full of life and fun as ever on the morrow.
Poor Granbury, however, was not so well off. It took some time to restore him to consciousness, and while Captain Putnam and Mr. Strong put him to bed, with hot-water bags to warm him up, Peleg Snuggers was sent off post-haste for a doctor. As a result of the adventure Granbury had to remain in bed for the best part of a week.
"I shan't forget you for what you did," he said to Dick, when able to sit up. "You saved my life." And many agreed that what George Granbury said was true. As for Dora Stanhope, she looked upon the elder Rover as more of a hero than ever.
After the mishap at the races on the ice the time flew by swiftly until the Christmas holidays. Before going home for Christmas Dick called upon the Stanhopes and gave them the gifts he had purchased, over which they were much pleased. For Dick Dora had worked a pretty scarf, of which he was justly proud. Mrs. Stanhope had books for all the boys, something which was always to their liking. The Rovers did not forget the Lanings, nor were they forgotten by these old friends.
"And now for home. Hurrah!" shouted Sam, on the way to Cedarville. "I must say I'm just a bit anxious to see the old place once more."
"Yes, and see father, and Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha," put in Dick.
"Don't forget Alexander Pop," put in Tom, referring to the colored man who had once been a waiter at the Hall, and who was now in the Rover employ.
"And Jack Ness and the rest," put in Sam. "I guess we'll be glad enough to see everybody."
When the boys arrived at Ithaca they found there had been a freight smash-up on the railroad, and that they would have to wait for five or six hours for a train to take them home. This would bring them to Oak Run, their railroad station, at three o'clock in the morning.
"I move we stay in Ithaca over night," said Tom. "If we got to Oak Run at three in the morning, what would we do? There would be no one there to meet us, and it's a beastly hour for rousing anybody out."
So they decided to put up at a hotel in Ithaca, and went around to a new place called the Students' Rest. The hotel was fairly well filled, but they secured a large apartment with two double beds.
"There's a nice concert on this evening by a college glee club," said Sam. "I move we get tickets and go."
"Second the motion," said Tom promptly.
"The motion is put and carried," put in Dick just as promptly. "I trust, though, the concert don't make us weep."
"They won't know we're there, so perhaps they won't try it on too hard," said Sam, and there the students' slang came to an end for the time being.
The concert was quite to their taste, and they were surprised, when it was over, to learn that it was after eleven o'clock.
"I hadn't any idea it was so late," exclaimed Dick. "We'd better be getting back to the hotel, or we won't get our money's worth out of that room."
"That's right," laughed Tom. "Although, to tell the truth, I'm not very sleepy."
Several blocks were covered when Sam, who was looking across the street, uttered a cry of astonishment.
"Look!" he exclaimed.
"At what?" asked both Tom and Dick.
"Over in front of that clothing store. There is Dan Baxter, and Jasper Grinder is with him!"
"Sam is right," came from Dick. "They must have struck up some sort of a friendship, or they wouldn't be here together."
"Let's go over and see what Baxter has to say for himself," said Tom boldly.
"All right," returned Dick. "But we want to keep out of a row; remember that."
They crossed the street and walked straight up to Baxter and Jasper Grinder, who were holding an animated conversation in the doorway of a clothing establishment which was closed for the night.
As they came up, Sam caught the words, "There is money there, sure," coming from Baxter. He paid no attention to the words at the time, but remembered them long afterward, and with good reason.
"Hullo, Baxter!" said Dick, halting in front of the bully.
Dan Baxter gave a start, as if detected in some wrong act. Then, as the light from an electric lamp shone upon Dick's face, he glared sourly at the oldest Rover.
"Where did you come from?" he asked, and then, seeing the other Rovers, added: "Been following me, I suppose?"
"No, we haven't been following you," said Dick. "We just came from, the college boys' concert in the hall down the street."
Jasper Grinder looked as sour as did Dan Baxter. Then he shook his finger in Dick's face.
"I haven't forgotten you, Richard Rover," he said bitterly. "And I am not likely to forget you."
"As you please, Mr. Grinder," was the cool rejoinder.
"And I shan't forget you, Jasper Grinder," put in Sam. "You were the means of my going to bed with a heavy cold."
"Bah! it was all put on," exclaimed Jasper Grinder. "Had I had my way, I would have kept you in the storeroom all night, and flogged you beside."
"Captain Putnam did a good thing when he dismissed you," put in Tom. "It's a pity he ever took on such a cold-hearted and miserly fellow."
"You Rovers think you are on top," said Dan Baxter savagely. "But you won't stay on top long, I'll give you my word on that."
"What are you going to do about it?" asked Dick, not without considerable curiosity.
"Never mind; you'll learn when the proper time comes."
"Is your dad going to try to break jail again?" asked Sam.
"It's none of your business what he does—or what I do, either."
"We'll make it our business if you try any of your games on us again," said Dick. "We've stood enough from you and your kind, and we don't intend to stand any more."
"Are you going back to school after the holidays?" asked Dan Baxter, after a pause.
"That's our business," answered Tom.
"All right; you needn't answer the question if you don't want to."
"What do you want to know for?" asked Sam.
"Oh! nothing in particular. I suppose it's a good place for you to go to. You are all Captain Putnam's pets, and he won't make you do a thing you don't like, or make you study either, if your father shells out to him."
"We study a great deal more than you ever studied, Baxter," said Dick.
"Let them go," cried Jasper Grinder, in deep irritation. "I want nothing to do with them," and he turned his back on the Rovers.
"We're willing to go," said Dick. "But, Baxter, I warn you against doing anything in the future. You'll only put your foot into it."
So speaking, Dick walked away, and Tom and Sam followed him. Baxter shook his fist at them, and Jasper Grinder did the same.
"They're a bad team," said Tom, as they walked to the hotel. "If they try, perhaps they can give us lots of trouble."
"Hurrah! Here we are again! How natural Oak Run looks!" exclaimed Tom on the following day, as the long train came to a halt at their station and they piled out on to the narrow platform.
"There is old Nat Ricks, the station master," said Sam. "Remember how you nearly scared him to death once by putting a big fire-cracker in the waste paper he was burning and then telling him a yarn about dynamite being around?"
"Well, I just guess I do," answered Tom, with a grin. "Hullo, Mr. Ricks!" he called out. "How are you this fine and frosty morning?"
"Putty well, Tom," grumbled the old station master. "Been troubled a lot lately with rheumatism."
"That's too bad, Mr. Ricks. Caught it hoisting trunks into the cars, I suppose."
"Don't know how I caught it."
"Or maybe lifting milk cans."
"I don't lift no milk cans no more. Job Todder has that work around here."
"I see. Well, you must have caught it somehow, or else it caught you. Ever tried the old Indian remedy for it?"
"Indian remedy, what's that?"
"Gracious, Mr. Ricks! never heard of the old reliable Indian remedy? I'm astonished at you," went on Tom, in mock candor.
"I've heard tell of Indian vegetable pills—but they aint no good for rheumatism," was the slow answer.
"Where is the pain mostly?"
"Down this left leg."
"Then the Indian remedy will just cure you, sure pop, Mr. Ricks."
"Well, what might it be?"
"It might be cover-liver oil, but it isn't. You get a quart bottle—a red quart bottle, for a white one won't do,—and fill it with cold spring water, tapped when the moon is full."
"Is that all?"
"Oh, no, no! Then you take the spring water and boil it over a charcoal fire, same as the Modoc Indians used to do. You remember all about that, don't you?"
"I—I—'pears to me I ought to," stammered the old station master.
"Well, after the water is boiled," went on Tom, with a side wink at Dick and Sam, who were already on a broad grin, "you strain it through a piece of red cheesecloth—not white, remember—and add one teaspoonful of sugar, one of salt, one of ginger, one of mustard, one of hog's lard, one of mercury, one of arrowroot, one of kerosene oil, one of lemon juice, one of extract of vanilla, one of mushamusha——"
"Hold on Rover, I can't remember all that. I'll have to put it down," interrupted Nat Ricks.
"No, you don't put it down until everything is in and well mixed. Then you put it down, half a pint at a time, four times a day. It's a sure cure, and inside of a week after taking seventeen quarts and rubbing the empty bottles on your left shoulder blade you'll feel like dancing a jig of joy; really, you will."
"Oh, you go along!" growled the old station master, in sudden wrath. "You're joking me. Go oh, or I'll throw something at you!"
"No bouquets, please, Mr. Ricks. Then you won't try the cure? All right, but don't blame me if your rheumatism gets worse. And as I can't do anything for you, will you kindly inform me if you've seen anything of Jack Ness around here, with our turnout?"
"If you want your hired man you go find him yourself," growled the station master, and hobbled into his office.
"Oh, Tom, but that was rich," laughed Sam softly. "When you said extract of vanilla and mushamusha I thought I'd explode. And he was listening so earnestly, too!"
"Here's Jack Ness!" cried Dick, as they turned to the rear of the station. "Hullo, Jack! Here we are again!"
"Master Dick!" exclaimed the hired man, with a grin. "An' Tom an' Sam! Glad to see you boys back, indeed I am. Here, give me them bags. I'll put 'em in the back of the sleigh."
"How is the sleighing?" asked Sam.
"Sleighing is quite fair yet, Master Tom. In you go. All the folks is dying to see you."
They were soon stowed away in the big family sleigh, and Jack Ness touched up the team, and away they went, through Oak Run and across the bridge spanning the Swift River—that stream where Sam had once had such a thrilling adventure. The countryside was covered with snow and with pools of ice.
It did not take them long to come in sight of Valley Brook. While still at a distance they saw faithful Alexander Pop come out on the broad piazza and wave his hand at them.
"There's Aleck!" cried Tom. "He's been on the watch!"
"There is father!" came from Sam, a moment later; "and aunt Martha and Uncle Randolph!"
Soon they turned into the lane, and Jack Ness brought the sleigh up to the piazza block in fine style. Tom was the first out and ran to greet his father, and then his uncle and his aunt, and the others followed.
"I am glad to see you back, boys," said Mr. Anderson Rover. "You all look first-rate."
"We're feeling first-rate," came from Dick.
"Are you sure, Sam, that you are quite over your cold?" asked Aunt Martha anxiously.
"Quite sure, aunty dear," he answered, and kissed her very warmly, not once, but several times.
"Here, don't eat Aunt Martha up!" cried Tom. "Leave some for me."
"You dear Tom!" murmured the lady of the house, as she kissed him and then embraced Dick. "Full of fun as ever, I suppose."
"Oh, no, aunty! I never do anything wrong now," answered Tom solemnly. "I really haven't time, you know."
"I'm afraid, Tom, I can't trust you." And Mrs. Randolph Rover shook her head sadly, but smiled nevertheless. She loved the jolly lad with all her heart.
There was a warm greeting from Randolph Rover also, and then the boys turned indoors, to greet faithful Alexander Pop and the others who worked about the place.
"Yo' is a sight fo' soah eyes, 'deed yo' is, boys," said the colored man. "I can't tell yo' how much I'se missed yo'!" And his face shone like a piece of polished ebony.
"It's more like home than ever, to get where you are, Aleck," said Dick. "You've been through so much with us you are certainly part of the outfit." And at this Aleck laughed and looked more pleased than ever.
It was the day before Christmas, but in honor of their arrival there was an extra-fine dinner awaiting them. Mrs. Rover had wanted to keep her turkey meat for Christmas, so her husband, Anderson Rover, and Aleck had gone into the woods back of the farm and brought down some rabbits and a number of birds, so there was potpie and other good things galore, not forgetting some pumpkin pies and home-made doughnuts, which Aunt Martha prepared with her own hands and of which the boys had always been exceedingly fond.
"I'll tell you what," remarked Tom, as he was stowing away his second generous piece of pie, "the feed at the Hall is all right, but when it comes to a real, downright spread, like this, the palm goes to Aunt Martha." And Dick and Sam agreed with him.
There was, of course, much to tell about on both sides, and after dinner the family gathered in the big sitting room, in front of a cheerful, blazing fire. Mr. Anderson Rover listened with keen interest to what his sons had to say about Jasper Grinder and Dan Baxter.
"I sincerely trust they do not plot against us," he said. "I am getting old, and I want no more trouble."
"I don't believe Dan has the backbone his father has," answered Dick. "And I believe Mr. Grinder is good deal of a coward."
"If only young Baxter would turn over a new leaf!" sighed Mrs. Martha Rover. "I declare I'll not feel safe, on your account, until that young man is taken care of."
The evening was passed in talking, singing, and playing games, and it was not until late that all retired.
The Christmas to follow was not one to be easily forgotten. There were presents for everybody, from Mr. Rover down to Sarah, the hired girl, and everybody was greatly pleased.
At the Christmas dinner Alexander Pop insisted upon waiting on the table, just as he had so often done at Putnam Hall. He had on his full dress suit, and his face wore one perpetual smile. The boys had all remembered Aleck handsomely, and he had not forgotten them.
In the afternoon the boys went skating, and on the pond met several of the boys of the neighborhood, and all had a glorious time until dark. Then they piled home, once more as hungry as wolves, to a hot supper, and an evening of nut-cracking around the fire.
"Tell you what," said Sam on going to bed that night, "I almost wish Christmas came once a week instead of once a year!"
It was on the day following Christmas that Dick brought out the brass-lined money casket which he had picked up in the cave on Needle Point Island, in Lake Huron, as related in a previous volume of this series.
As old readers know, this cave was stumbled upon by accident. It had once been the hiding place of a band of smugglers who plied their unlawful calling between the United States and Canada, and the cave was found filled with numerous articles of more or less value. The Rovers had gone back for these things, but had found some money gone, also a curiously shaped dagger and a map, which had been in the cave on a rude table. They were pretty well satisfied in their minds that Dan Baxter had taken these things, but had never been able to prove it.
The brass-lined money casket was an odd-looking affair, which Dick found thrust in a big box of fancy articles of various descriptions. The box was about a foot long, six inches wide, and six inches deep. It was of rosewood, with silver corners, and the lining was of polished brass, curiously engraved. The box had contained a few odd Canadian silver coins, but that was all.
"Do you know, I would like to know the history of this box," observed Dick, as he looked it over. "As it belonged to one of those smugglers it ought to have quite a story to tell."
"It will make a nice jewel casket," put in Tom. "When you settle down with Dora, you can give if to her for her dia——"
"Oh, stow that, Tom! If Dora ever does take me for a husband, it won't be for some years to come, you must know that."
"Let me take a look at the box," put in Sam. "I never got the chance to look it over carefully."
"It's odd that they should engrave it inside," went on Dick. "Especially since the outside silver corners are plain."
"Perhaps there is a secret spring hidden by the engraving," suggested Tom. "Hunt around. It may fly apart and let out a hundred thousand in diamonds."
"Don't be foolish, Tom," said Dick. "It isn't likely there is a spring."
"But there just is a spring!" exclaimed Sam, who was handling the box. "Hark!"
He ran his finger nail over a spot on one side of the box, and there followed a tiny click. Then he ran his finger nail back, and there was another click.
"Hurrah! Sam has solved the mystery of the sphinx!" cried Tom. "Can you open it? I claim a third share of the diamonds!"
"Give me the box," said Dick, also a bit excited. When he got it in his hands he, too, ran his finger nail over the engraved brass. Several tiny clicks followed.
"There must be some opening beneath the brass lining," he said.
"Take it to the window, and perhaps you'll be able to see something more," suggested Sam.
Dick did as advised, and, with his brothers gathered close beside him, worked over the money casket for fully quarter of an hour.
"It seems to click, and that's all," he said disappointedly. "If I could only——Oh!"
Dick stopped short. His finger had run across the lining in a certain way. There were three clicks in rapid succession, and on the instant one of the brass plates of the box flew back, revealing a tiny compartment behind it, not over a quarter of an inch in depth.
"No diamonds there," said Tom, his face falling. "Full of emptiness."
"No, here is a sheet of parchment," returned Dick, pulling it forth. "A map!" he added, as he unfolded it. "Well, I never!"
"Never what?" came from Tom and Sam.
"Unless I am mistaken, this is like the map that was on that table in the cave, only this is much smaller."
"That's interesting, too," said Tom.
"The back of the map is full of writing," said Sam. He looked closer. "It's in French."
"This box must have belonged to one of those French-Canadian smugglers," said Dick. "We'll have to get Uncle Randolph to read the writing and tell us what it says."
The three boys had been up to Dick's room. Now they lost no time in going below. In all eagerness they burst into the library, where Anderson Rover sat reading a magazine and Randolph Rover one of his favorite works on scientific farming.
"Dick has got the money casket open!" cried Sam.
"And he has found a map," added Tom. "We want Uncle Randolph to read the writing. It's in French."
"Found a map in that old brass-lined box, eh?" said Anderson Rover. "That's interesting."
"I am afraid my French is a trifle rusty," remarked Randolph Rover, as he put down his book. "Let me see the map."
He took it to the window, and both he and Anderson Rover looked it over with keen interest.
"Why, this is a map of the locality around Timber Run," said Randolph Rover. "That's a great lumbering section in the Adirondacks."
"Timber Run!" echoed Tom, and for the moment said no more. But he remembered what Dora Stanhope had said, that after the holidays Nellie and Grace Laning were going on a visit to an aunt who lived at Timber Run.
"Yes, Thomas, this is a map of Timber Run. This stream is the Perch River, and this is Bear Pond. The naming is in French, but that is the English of it."
"Please read the writing on the back," said Dick. "If the map is worth anything I want to know it."
Without further ado Randolph Rover began to read the writing. It was a hard and tedious task, and the translating was, to him, equally difficult, for his knowledge of French was somewhat limited. Translated, the writing ran somewhat after this fashion:
"To find the box of silver and gold, go to where Bear Pond empties into Perch River. Ten paces to the west is a large pine tree, which was once struck by lightning. Go due southwest from the pine tree sixty-two paces, to the flat rock, behind which is a sharp-pointed rock. Beneath the sharp-pointed rock is the chamber with the box. Stranger, beware of Goupert's ghost."
"A treasure in the mountains!" cried Sam. "Hurrah! let's go and get it!"
"Bear Pond lies between two high mountains," said Randolph Rover. "It is in a very wild country, and so far but little of the timber has been taken out."
"Never mind, we'll go anyhow!" put in Tom enthusiastically. "Why, the box may be worth a fortune!"
"Yes, let us go by all means," put in Dick. "I wouldn't like any better fun than hunting for a treasure box."
"Haven't you boys had adventures enough?" questioned Anderson Rover. "You've been to Africa and out West, and on the ocean and the Great Lakes——"
"Oh, this would just be a little winter's outing in the mountains," said Tom. "We could go hunting, and have lots of fun, even if we didn't find the treasure box."
"The treasure box was probably taken away years ago," said Randolph Rover. "Most likely several of the smugglers knew of it."
"And what of that ghost?" asked Anderson Rover, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Pooh! we're not afraid of ghosts," sniffed Sam. "Are we, Tom?"
"If I saw a ghost, I'd be apt to pepper him with shot, if I had my gun," answered Tom. "No, I'm not afraid of such things—and neither is Dick."
"It would be a fine thing to find a big boxful of silver," said Dick seriously. "I know there was lots in that cave, before Dan Baxter scooped it in. And, by the way, he must have that other map yet."
"Perhaps he went for the treasure box!" burst out Sam.
"If the box is gone, we can't help it," said Tom. "But I move we get to Timber Run and Bear Pond just as soon as possible."
"Do you want to start in this cold weather?" asked his father anxiously.
"Pooh! It isn't so very cold."
"It's a good deal colder up in the mountains than it is here, I can tell you that. Why, you might easily freeze to death if you got lost in the snow."
"I wonder if we couldn't find some guide who knows that territory thoroughly," mused Dick.
"If you could find a good guide, I wouldn't mind your going," said his parent. "But I shall object to your going alone."
"Then we'll hunt for a guide, and without delay," said Dick. "I would like to go up there before Putnam Hall opens again."
"So would I," came from his two brothers.
"I think I know where you can get a guide," said Tom, after a pause. "The Lanings have relatives at Timber Run. Let's write to Mr. Laning."
This was agreed to, and a special trip was made to the village by Aleck Pop to post the letter. In the letter they asked Mr. Laning to telegraph, if possible, in reply.
The telegram came shortly after noon the next day. It ran as follows:
"I feel sure my brother-in-law, John Barrow, of Timber Run, can supply a reliable guide. Will write to him."JOHN LANING."
"I feel sure my brother-in-law, John Barrow, of Timber Run, can supply a reliable guide. Will write to him.
"JOHN LANING."
"That settles it," said Dick. "I know the Lanings will do what is right by us, so we may as well get ready to start at once. Are you willing, father?"
"Yes, Dick," was the answer. "But be sure and keep out of danger, and keep Tom and Sam out, too."
Three days later found the Rover boys in the heart of the Adirondack Mountains of New York State. They had left home, after a hasty but thorough preparation, two days before, and taken the train from Oak Run to the mountain village of Medwell. At Medwell they had taken the stage to Barton's Corners, and at this point had hired a private conveyance to carry them and their outfit to Timber Run.
At the time of which I write Timber Run was nothing more than a collection of a dozen houses, strung along a branch of the Perch River, where that stream turned the southern slope of a high hill known as Bald Top. There was a general store here and also an office belonging to the Timber Run Lumber Company. But business with the company was slow, and the village, consequently, was almost destitute of life, two of the houses being without tenants.
"Well, this doesn't look much like a place," remarked Sam, as they got out of the heavy lumber wagon which had brought them and their outfit over.
"Phew! but aint it cold!" exclaimed Tom, dancing around and slapping his arms over his chest. "I wonder how Nellie and Grace Laning like this?"
"I'll wager you've been thinking of Nellie all the way up," said Dick slyly, remembering how his brother had tormented him about Dora Stanhope.
"Couldn't think of anything but how cold it was," growled Tom, but his face took on a sudden redness. "Where do you go next?" he demanded, to change the subject.
"Let's go over to the store and ask for Mr. John Barrow," suggested Dick.
The store was at a fork in the roads, and thither they hurried, to get inside, for the ride from Barton's Corners had certainly been a chilling one. In the store they found a big pot stove throwing out a generous amount of heat, and around this stove were gathered half a dozen men, smoking and telling stories.
"So you are the young men who are looking for John Barrow," said the storekeeper, after listening to what Dick had to say. "He was here waiting for you, and he'll be back in a bit. Rather a cold ride, eh? Draw up to the fire and warm up."
A place was made for the lads, and while they were "thawing out," as Sam put it, John Barrow came in. He proved to be a tall, powerful built lumberman, with a well-tanned face and sharp, but kindly, eyes.
"How do you do," he said, as he shook hands. "Real glad to know you. Yes, I got a letter from John Laning, my brother-in-law, tellin' me all about you. He says as how you want a guide fer these parts. Well, I don't want to brag, but I reckon I know the lay o' the land 'round here about as good as any o' 'em, and a heap sight better nor lots."
"We'd like you first-rate for a guide," said Tom, who was pleased with John Barrow's looks, as were also his brothers. "But can you spare the time?"
"Reckon I can, just now. You see, the lumber company has got in some sort of a tangle with the owner of the timber on this tract, and consequently work is at a standstill. That's why you see so many men hangin' around here."
"Then you work for the company?" asked Dick.
"I do in the winter time, but not in the summer. I've got a tidy farm down the river a bit, and I let out my hosses to the company to haul timber. It's cash money, you see, when the haulin' is goin' on."
"I believe the Laning girls are stopping with you," put in Sam.
"Yes, Nellie and Grace came up some time ago. You see, our girl, Addie, gits tired being on the farm with only her mother, so we invited her cousins to come up for a spell. They've had some pretty good times together, so far, skatin' and sleighin', and the like. They are all anxious to see you."
John Barrow had brought with him his wagon, and into this their outfit was dumped, and a minute later they were off, down the winding and rough road running along the bank of the river, which was now frozen to a thickness of a foot or more and covered with several inches of snow.
"You say you know this locality," observed Dick, as they bumped along over the frozen ground. "Do you know the spot where Bear Pond empties into Perch River?"
"I know several such spots, my lad."
"Several!" came from all of the Rover boys.
"Yes, several. You see the ground around the pond is marshy, and the heavy rains cut all sorts of gullies here and there, so the pond empties into the river, now, at five or six p'ints."
"Are these points very far apart?" asked Sam, in dismay. "You see, I'm very anxious we should know the exact particulars."
"Indeed!" John Barrow looked at them curiously. "Say, I reckon I know what you are after!" he burst out suddenly.
"What?" came from the three.
"You're on a hunt for old Goupert's treasure."
"Why, what do you know about that?" demanded Dick. He remembered that the writing on the map said, "Beware of Goupert's ghost."
"Oh, that's an old yarn about here, and at different times we've had more'n a hundred folks a-hunting around for that old Frenchman's money box, but nobody ever got so much as a smell o' it."
"Who was Goupert?" asked Tom.
"Goupert was a thoroughly bad man, who lived sixty or seventy years ago. The story goes that he used to be a smuggler and that he came here when the authorities chased him off the Great Lakes. He had lots o' money, but he was a miser, and a queer stick to boot. He built himself a cabin on Bear Pond, and lived there all alone for two years. Then some lake men came down here, and one night there was a big row and the lake men disappeared. Goupert couldn't be found at first, but about a month later some hunters discovered his dead body tied to a tree in the woods, not far from the spot you asked about. He had been left to starve to death. The story was that the lake men had starved him in order to get him to tell where he had hidden his money box, and that old Goupert was too much o' a miser to let the secret out. So folks begun to hunt for that money box high an' low, but never got a smell o' it, as I said."
"Did you ever hunt for the money?" questioned Dick.
"No, I never had no time to waste. So you really came up on that account?"
"We came up on that account, and also to have a good time in the mountains," said Dick, before Sam or Tom could speak. "But, Mr. Barrow, I wish you wouldn't mention this to the other folks around here. They might laugh at us for coming on what they think is a wild-goose chase."
"Oh, I won't say a word on it—if you want it that way."
"Did this Goupert leave any relatives?" asked Sam.
"No, lad, not a soul."
"Then if we should find that treasure it would belong to us," put in Tom.
"Every penny on it, lad. But don't raise any high hopes, or you may be sorely disapp'inted."
"Oh, I came for a good time," replied Tom, in an off-handed a manner as possible.
Presently John Barrow had to get out of the wagon to fix something on the harness. While he was doing this Dick leaned over to his two brothers.
"Don't say anything about the map to anybody," he whispered. "We'll keep that a secret for the present." And Tom and Sam nodded, to show that they understood.
The ride to John Barrow's house soon came to an end, and as the boys alighted at the horseblock the door opened and Nellie and Grace Laning appeared.
"How do you do, Tom!" cried Nellie, as she ran and caught him by the hand, while Grace did the same to Sam. "We're awfully glad to see you, and to see Dick and Sam, too," and a hand-shaking all around followed. Then Mrs. Barrow, a motherly woman, was introduced and also her daughter Addie, who was Nellie's age, and full of fun.
"Come right in, boys," said Mrs. Barrow. "Supper is waiting, and I'm sure you must be hungry."
"Hungry doesn't describe it," said Tom. "I could eat sole leather. Phew! what an appetite riding in this mountain air does give a fellow!"
"Can you ever remember the time when you wasn't without an appetite, Tom?" asked Nellie Laning, with a laugh.
"Never go so far into ancient history," he returned solemnly, and a general laugh followed.
Soon their outfit was safely housed in the barn, and then they entered the house, where the long supper table, filled with good things, awaited them. All three of the girls insisted upon waiting on the boys, and it proved as jolly a meal as they had ever eaten. They lingered for an hour at the table, talking and cracking nuts, and during that time the Rover boys became thoroughly acquainted with the Barrow family.
"Oh, I've heard lots about you!" said Addie Barrow. "Nellie has told me great, long stories about Tom's bravery, and Grace has told me all about Sam's doings, and both of them have told about you, Dick——"
"Now, do be still, Addie!" put in Nellie Laning. "I declare, I never said a word!"
"Oh! A word! Why, you kept me awake one night for over an hour telling about how Tom——"
"Let's have a song," broke in Sam. "I see an organ in the next room and some music. You must play," he added, to Addie.
"She plays beautifully," put in Grace, thankful for the change of subject. "Addie, give them that new song, 'I'm Sorry, Oh, So Sorry!'"
"All right," answered the young lady of the house, and sitting down at the organ she ran her hands over the keys and started the song. She could sing and play well, and all joined in the chorus. The music was kept up for over an hour, and then the Rover boys retired, highly pleased over their reception.