Eight o'clock that evening saw the three Rovers on their way to Hope Seminary. Tom was the leader, and it had taken a good half hour's arguing on his part to get Dick and Sam to accompany him.
"You'll make a fool of yourself, and make fools of us, too," was the way Sam expressed himself.
"Most likely they won't want to see us," was Dick's opinion.
"If they don't want to see us, really and truly, I want to know it," answered Tom bluntly. "I don't believe in this dodging around the bush. There is no sense in it." It had angered him to think Nellie had been seen in the company of Flockley and his cronies, and he was for "having it out" without delay.
"Well, you'll have to lead the way," said Dick. "I'm not going to make a call and have Dora send down word that she can't see me."
"She won't do that," said Tom. "I know her too well."
"Well, you call on Nellie first."
"I'm not afraid," retorted Tom. He was so "worked up" he was willing to do almost anything.
The nearer the three students got to the seminary the slower they walked. Even Tom began to realize that he had undertaken what might prove a very delicate mission.
"I think it would have been better to have sent a letter," suggestedSam. "Let's go back and write it before we go to bed."
"And put down something in black and white that you'd be sorry for afterward," grumbled Dick.
At the entrance to the seminary grounds they halted again, but then Tom caught each brother by the arm and marched them up to the front door and rang the bell.
A maid answered their summons and led them to a reception-room. A minute later one of the teachers appeared.
"Why, I thought you young gentlemen knew the young ladies had gone away," said the teacher after they had mentioned the object of their visit. "They said they were going to send you a note."
"Gone away!" echoed Dick.
"Yes. The three left for home on the late afternoon train. Mrs. Stanhope and Mrs. Laning said it was a matter of business. Then you didn't get their note?"
"We did not," answered Tom.
"That is too bad. I am sure they spoke of sending it. Wait, I will askParks, our messenger, about it."
The teacher left the room, and the Rover boys looked speculatively at each other.
"They must have been getting ready to leave when Tubbs saw them," saidDick.
"And we never knew they were going," added Sam bitterly.
"The matter of business must refer to that Sobber case," said Tom. "I don't know what else could take them home."
"Maybe they have lost the case and must give the treasure up," said Sam. "In that case, Mr. Laning would have to take the girls away from such an expensive place as this."
In a few minutes the lady teacher came back.
"Parks says he took three notes, addressed to Richard, Thomas and Samuel Rover. He says he went over to Brill this morning with them and gave them to a man named Filbury."
"Filbury, eh?" said Dick, naming an old man who worked around the dormitories. "Well, we didn't get them, and I am very sorry."
"So am I, Mr. Rover," said the teacher.
"Do you know how long the young ladies will be gone?"
"They could not tell. They said they would send letters after they arrived home."
This was all the seminary teacher could tell, and a minute later the Rovers said good night and left. All hurried from the grounds in deep thought.
"We must find Filbury and see what he did with those letters," saidTom, and his brothers agreed with him.
When they reached Brill they located the man they were after fixing a light in one of the halls.
"Where are those letters you got for us this morning, Filbury?" askedDick sternly.
"Letters?" asked the old man, who was rather absent minded. "I don't remember no letters, Mr. Rover."
"I mean the three letters which Parks of Hope Seminary gave you for me and my brothers."
"Oh, them. I remember now. Let me see. Yes, I got them, and one for Mr. Flockley, too. I gave him all the letters. He said he'd hand 'em to you." And apparently satisfied, Filbury resumed his work on the light.
"When was this?" demanded Sam.
"About eleven o'clock. I hope it's all right. I would have delivered the letters myself, only I had a lot of work to do."
"It is not all right, and we are going to look into the matter at once," said Dick; and hurried off with Tom and Sam at his heels. They went straight to the room occupied by Flockley and Koswell, and knocked on the door. There was a stir within, a few whispered words, and then the door was opened.
"What do you want?" asked Jerry Koswell. Flockley was sitting by the table, reading.
"Flockley, what did you do with those letters you got from Filbury for us?" demanded Dick, striding into the room.
"Letters?" asked the dude carelessly. "Oh, I put them on the table inTom and Sam's room."
"When?"
"This morning."
"They weren't there after dinner," said Sam.
"Nor after supper, either," added Tom.
"Look here, do you accuse me of stealing your letters?" demandedFlockley, rising as if in anger.
"No; but we want to know where they are," answered Tom.
"I told you what I did with them. I wouldn't have touched the letters, only Filbury asked me to do the favor. If they are not on the table maybe the wind swept them to the floor. Did you look?"
"No."
"Then you had better."
"You might have spoken about them, Flockley," said Dick coldly. "Any other student would have done so."
"Or you could have handed us the letters at lunch," added Sam.
"I am not your hired man!" cried Dudd Flockley. "Next time I'll not touch the letters at all!" And then he dropped back into his chair and pretended to read again.
"If we don't find the letters you'll hear from us again," said Dick.And then he and his brothers retired.
They entered the room occupied by Sam and Tom and lit up. The notes were not on the table.
"Here they are!" cried Sam, and picked them up from the floor, under the edge of Tom's bed. They looked rather mussed up, and all of the Rovers wondered if Flockley had opened and read them.
"I don't think he'd be any too good to do it," muttered Tom as he opened the note addressed to himself.
It was from Nellie, and rather cool in tone. It said all were called home on account of the case at court, but did not give any particulars. At the bottom was mentioned the time of departure from Hope and also from Ashton. The notes from Dora and Grace contained about the same information, and Grace added that she wanted Sam to write to her.
"If we had had these letters this afternoon we might have gone to Hope instead of nutting," said Tom bitterly.
"They must have expected to see us, either there or at the depot," said Sam. "Otherwise they wouldn't have been so particular about mentioning the time of departure from both places."
"Yes, I guess they expected to see us, or hear from us," said Dick, and breathed a deep sigh.
"Well, they did see us—when we were with Miss Sanderson and her friends."
"What must they have thought—if they imagined we had received the letters?" groaned Tom.
"They thought we cut 'em dead," replied Sam. "Isn't this the worst ever? And all on Flockley's account! I'd like to punch his nose!"
"I'd like to be sure of one thing," said Dick, a hard tone stealing into his voice. "Did Flockley just happen to be in Ashton when the girls got there, or did he open and read these letters and then go on purpose, with Koswell and Larkspur?"
"Say, that's something to think about!" cried Tom. "If he opened the letters I'd like to make him confess."
"Well, one thing is certain," said Dick after the matter had been talked over for a while, "we missed a splendid chance to talk matters over with the girls. It is too bad!" And his face showed his concern.
"And you didn't even want to go to Hope with me," commented Tom, with a humor he could not repress.
"Wish we had gone yesterday," answered Sam bluntly. He could read "between the lines" of the note he had received, and knew that Grace wanted to see him just as much as he wanted to see her.
Sam said he was going to write a letter that night, and finally Tom and Dick agreed to do the same.
"But I shan't write much," said Dick. "I am not going to put my foot in it." Nevertheless he wrote a letter of four pages, and then added a postscript of two pages more. And the communications Sam and Tom penned were equally long.
"We'll not trust 'em to the college mail," said Tom. "We can take 'em to the post-office when we go to church to-morrow," And this was done.
After the letters were posted the brothers waited anxiously for replies, and in the meantime buckled down once more to their studies. It was now well along in December, and one morning they awoke to find the ground covered with snow.
"Snowballing to-day!" said Tom with a touch of cheerfulness, and he was right. That day, after class hours, the students snowballed each other with a will. The freshmen and the sophomores had a regular pitched battle, which lasted the best part of an hour. All of the Rovers took part in the contest, and it served to make them more cheerful than they had been for some time.
"What's the good of moping?" said Tom. "We are bound to hear from the girls sooner or later." Yet, as day after day went by, and no letters came, he felt as downcast as did his brothers.
The boys were to go home for the Christmas holidays, and under ordinary circumstances they would have felt gay over the prospect. But now it was different.
"Going to send Dora a Christmas present?" asked Tom of Dick, a few days before the close of the term.
"I don't know. Are you going to send anything to Nellie?"
"Yes, if you send something to Dora."
"Sam says he is going to send Grace a writing outfit and a book of postage stamps," went on Dick.
"That's what they all need," growled Tom. "It's a shame! They might at least have acknowledged our letters."
The boys did not know what to do. Supposing they sent presents to the girls, and got them back? They held a meeting in Dick's room and asked Songbird's advice.
"Send them the nicest things you can buy," said the would-be poet. "I am going to send a young lady a gift—a beautiful autograph album, with a new poem of mine, sixteen verses in length. It's on 'The Clasp of a Friendly Hand.' I got the inspiration once when I—er—But never mind that. It's a dandy poem."
"Who is the album to go to?" asked Tom indifferently.
"Why—er—Minnie Sanderson," answered Songbird innocently. "You see, we have gotten to be very good friends lately."
The next day the Rover boys went down to Ashton to see what they could find in the stores. Dick said he wanted to get something nice for his Aunt Martha, Tom wanted something for his father, and Sam said he thought Uncle Randolph was deserving of a gift that was worth while.
Yet when they got into the largest store of which the town boasted all seemed to gravitate naturally to where the pretty things for the ladies were displayed.
"There's a dandy fan," murmured Tom. "Nellie likes fans very much."
"So does Grace," returned Sam. "Say, what are you going to do?"
"What are you going to do, Sam?"
"I'm going to get one of those fans and send it, along with a box of bonbons and chocolates," answered the youngest Rover boldly. "And I'm going to send Mrs. Laning a pair of kid gloves," he added.
"Then I'll send a fan, too," answered Tom, "and I'll send Mrs. Laning a workbox. I know she'd like one."
In the meantime Dick was looking at some fancy belt buckles and hatpins. He knew Dora liked such things.
"I'll just take Songbird's advice and get the best I can and send them," he told himself. And he picked out the best buckle he could find, and likewise a handsome hatpin, and had them put into a fancy box, along with a fancy Christmas card, on which he wrote his name. Then he purchased a five-pound box of candy at the confectioner's shop, and Tom and Sam did the same.
This was the start, and now that the ice was broken, and the first plunge taken, the boys walked around from one store to another, picking up various articles, not alone for the folks at home, but also for their various friends. And they added a number of other things for the girls, too.
"It's no worse to send four things than two," was the way Tom expressed himself.
"Right you are," answered Dick. Now that they had decided to send the things they all felt better for it.
On the day school closed there was another fall of snow, and the boys were afraid they would be snowbound. But the train came in, although rather late, and all piled on board.
At Oak Run, their railroad station, they found Jack Ness, the Rover's hired man, awaiting them with the big sleigh. Into this they tumbled, stowing their dress-suit cases in the rear, and then, with a crack of the whip, they were off over Swift River, and through Dexter's Corners, on their way to Valley Brook farm.
"And how are the folks, Jack?" asked Sam as they drove along, the sleighbells jingling merrily in the frosty air.
"Fine, Master Sam, fine," was the hired man's answer.
"And how have you been?"
"Me? Oh, I've been takin' it easy—since Master Tom quit plaguing me."
"Why, I never plague anybody," murmured Tom, with a look of injured innocence on his round face. He reached out and caught some snow from a nearby bush. "Say, Jack, what is that on the horse's hind foot?" he went on.
"Where? I don't see nuthin'," answered the hired man, and leaned over the dashboard of the turnout to get a better view. As his head went forward Tom quickly let the snow in his hand fall down the man's neck, inside his collar.
"Hi! hi! Wow!" spluttered Jack Ness, straightening up and twisting his shoulders. "Say, what did you put that snow down my back for?"
"Just to keep you from sweating too much, Jack," answered Tom with a grin.
"At your old tricks again," groaned the hired man. "Now, I reckon the house will be turned upside down till you go back to college."
When the boys got in sight of the big farm house they set up a ringing shout that quickly brought their father and their uncle and aunt to the door. And behind these appeared the ebony face of Aleck Pop, the colored man who was now a fixture of the Rover household.
"Hello, everybody!" cried Tom, making a flying leap from the sleigh the instant it drew up to the piazza. "Isn't this jolly, though?" And he rushed to his Aunt Martha and gave her a hug and kiss, and then shook hands with his father and his Uncle Randolph Dick and Sam were close behind him, and went through a similar performance.
"My! my! Don't squeeze the breath out of me!" cried Mrs. Rover, as she beamed with delight "You boys are regular bears!"
"Glad you got through," said their father. "It looks like a heavy storm."
"It does my heart good to see you again," said Uncle Randolph. "I trust you have profited by your stay at Brill." He was well educated himself, and thought knowledge the greatest thing in the world.
"Oh, we did profit, Uncle Randolph," answered Tom with mischief chewing in his eyes. "Dick and I helped to win the greatest football game you ever heard about."
"Tom Rover!" remonstrated his aunt, while Aleck Pop doubled up with mirth and disappeared behind a convenient door.
"We brought home good reports," said Sam. "Dick stands second in the class and Tom stands fifth. That's not so bad in a class of twenty-two."
"And Sam stands third," put in Tom.
"That is splendid!" said Anderson Rover. "I am proud of you!"
"And so am I proud," added Randolph Rover.
"You'll all be great men some time," said their Aunt Martha. "But come into the sitting-room and take off your things. Supper will be ready in a little while. But if you want a doughnut beforehand—"
"Hurrah for Aunt Martha's doughnuts!" cried Sam. "I was thinking of them while riding in the train."
"Well, you shall have all you wish during the holidays," answered his aunt fondly.
They were soon settled down and relating the particulars of some of the things that had happened at Brill. None of the boys cared to tell of the coldness that had sprung up between themselves and the girls. They simply said they knew the girls had gone home.
"That was an outrage," said Mr. Rover with considerable warmth.
"An outrage?" repeated Dick doubtfully. "What do you mean?"
"Perhaps you didn't hear the report that was circulated at HopeSeminary concerning them."
"We heard no report, excepting that they had been called home."
"Somebody circulated a story that they were going to school on money that did not belong to them—that their folks had confiscated a fortune belonging to others. Grace wrote to her mother that the story was being whispered about everywhere, and it was making them all miserable; and that's the main reason for their going home."
"What a contemptible thing to do!" cried Tom. "Who do you suppose is guilty—Tad Sobber?"
"I can think of nobody else. He is so angry he would do anything to injure them and us."
"And what of the case?" asked Sam. "Will it come up in court soon?"
"Some time next Spring."
"And what do the lawyers think of our side winning?" questioned Dick eagerly.
"They say it depends largely upon the evidence the other side submits.It is possible that the case may drag on for years."
"What a shame!" murmured Dick.
It continued to snow all that night and the next day, and Christmas found the family all but snowbound at Valley Brook.
"Merry Christmas!" was the cry, early in the morning, and the boys tumbled out of bed and dressed in a hurry. Then they went below, to find a stack of presents awaiting them. They quickly distributed the gifts they had brought and then looked at their own. They had almost everything their hearts could desire.
Yet each youth felt a pang of disappointment, for among all the gifts there were none for them from the Stanhopes or the Lanings.
"We are out of it," said Dick laconically to his brothers.
"So it appears," answered Tom soberly. For once, all the fun was knocked out of him.
"Well, I am glad I didn't forget them, anyway," said Sam bravely. But he wondered how it was Grace could treat him so shabbily.
The boys passed the day as best they could in reading and playing games, and in snowballing each other and Jack Ness and Aleck Pop.
"My! my! But dis am lik old times at Putnam Hall!" said the colored man, grinning from ear to ear when Tom hit him on the head with a snowball. "Hab yo' fun while yo' am young, Massa Tom."
"That's my motto, Aleck," answered Tom. "Have another." And he landed a snowball on the colored man's shoulder.
"I move we go down to the post-office for mail," said Dick toward evening. "We don't know what we may be missing."
"Second the motion!" cried Tom. "The post-office it is, if we can get through."
"Can't no hoss git through these drifts," came from Jack Ness.
"We'll hitch up our biggest team and take our time," said Dick. "We have got to get down to the post-office somehow." He was hoping desperately that he would find a letter from Dora there.
When the old folks heard of it they shook their heads doubtfully. But the boys pleaded so strongly that at last they were allowed to go. They got out a strong cutter and the best pair of horses on the farm, and bundled up well.
"If you can't make it, drive in at one of the neighbors," said Mr.Rover on parting.
"We will," answered Dick.
It was a long, hard drive to Dexter's Corners, and by the time the boys arrived there they were chilled through and through and the team was pretty well winded. They went directly to the postmaster's house, for the office was in a room of the building.
"I'll see if there are any letters," said the postmaster, and went off. He returned with a picture postal for Mrs. Randolph Rover and two advertising circulars for her husband. There were also a newspaper and a magazine for the boys' father.
"And is that all?" asked Dick, his heart sinking.
"That's all."
"Not worth coming for," muttered Tom as they turned away.
"The mail didn't come in this morning," shouted the postmaster after them. "You'll have to wait for more stuff until the train arrives at Oak Run."
"Let us go over to the Run and see if we can learn anything about the trains," said Sam, a spark of hope springing up in his breast.
They drove over the river, and as they did so they heard the whistle of a locomotive.
"Something is coming," cried Dick.
"Perhaps it's only the night freight," returned Tom.
When they reached the depot the train was standing there. It was the morning accommodation, nine hours late. They saw some mail bags thrown off and also several express boxes and packages.
Curiosity prompted Dick to inspect the express goods. He uttered a cry of joy.
"A box for us!" he exclaimed. "And from Cedarville!"
"Where?" cried Tom and Sam, and ran forward to look the box over. It was two feet long and a foot high, and equally deep, and was addressed to R., T. and S. Rover.
"From the girls, I'll bet a snowball!" cried Tom joyfully. "Hurry up and sign for it and we'll see what it contains."
The agent was at hand, for he was the ticket agent and station master as well, and they soon signed for the box. Then they took it to a secluded corner of the station, and with a borrowed hammer and chisel pried off the cover.
The sight "that met their gaze filled them with pleasure. There were several packages for each of the boys, from the girls and from Mrs. Stanhope and Mrs. Laning. There were some beautiful neckties, some books, and some diaries for the new year, and a box of fudge made by the girls. Dora had written on the flyleaf of one of the books, wishing Dick a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and similar sentiments from Nellie and Grace appeared in the books for Tom and Sam.
"Say, I reckon this was worth coming for," remarked Sam.
"Rather," answered Dick.
"Wouldn't have missed it for a million dollars," added Tom.
"Maybe the mail bag has some letters for us," went on Sam. He was disappointed that no note had accompanied the gifts.
"We'll take the bags to the office and see," said Dick, and this was done a little later, after the box had been closed and put in the cutter and carefully covered with a robe. In the bags were found letters from their old friends, Hans Mueller and Fred Garrison, and a postal from Dave Kearney, but that was all.
"Well, we mustn't expect too much," said Dick. "Remember, we didn't send any letters."
"But we will now, thanking them for all these nice things," said Sam quickly.
It was nearly midnight before the boys got home again, and their folks were much alarmed about them. They were almost exhausted, but very happy, and they showed their new presents with great pride.
"They are dear girls!" said Mrs. Rover. "It was splendid of them to remember you this way, and splendid of Mrs. Stanhope and Mrs. Laning, too."
The next morning was spent in writing letters. It was rather hard at first to say just what they wanted to, but after they had started the letters grew and grew, until each was ten pages or more. They told about meeting Minnie Sanderson and the other girls by accident, and about not getting the notes until that night, and Dick added the following to his letter to Dora:
"And now let me tell you something in secret. Songbird Powell has developed a very, very strong liking for Miss Sanderson, the girl Tom and Sam and I aided when first we came to Brill. He talks about her a good deal, and took her to a concert at Ashton one evening. He said he was going to give her an autograph album for Christmas and write in it an original poem sixteen verses long, on 'The Clasp of a Friendly Hand,' That is pushing matters some, isn't it? We all wish him luck."
"There, that ought to make her understand how I feel about Miss Sanderson," said Dick to himself. And then he ended the letter by stating he hoped they would meet again soon so that they could have a good long talk.
On the day after the letters were mailed the storm cleared away and the sun came out brightly. The boys went for a long sleigh ride, and visited some friends living in that vicinity. Then they helped to clear off a pond, and on New Year's day went skating.
"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 onDick.
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.
"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 Tom 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 andGrace were going to return to Hope, regardless of the reports that hadbeen 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 saySongbird 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. DickRover 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.
"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 to-morrow 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?" askedSongbird 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:
"To-morrow, ere the hour is late,We shall go forth to investigate.The Jamison ghostShall 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 to-morrow," 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 to-day," 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.
"Now, Songbird, you've got to be back here by four, or half after, at the latest," said Dick as he and his brothers and Stanley got out. "No spooning with Minnie till six."
"Huh! I don't spoon," grumbled the would-be poet. "I am—er—only going to show her some new verses I wrote. They are entitled—"
"Keep them for Minnie!" cried Sam. "And remember what Dick said. We are not going to hang around here after dark."
"Scared already?" asked Songbird.
"No, but enough of this place is enough, that's all."
"I'll be back, don't worry," said Songbird, and away he drove at a swift gait, leaving the Rovers and Stanley in the roadway in front of the house said to be haunted.
It was certainly a lonely spot, no other house being in sight, for Rushville lay under the brow of a hill. The boys stood still and listened. Not a sound broke the stillness that surrounded the deserted house.
"It sure is a ghostlike place," remarked Stanley. "I shouldn't care to come here at midnight."
"Oh, that wouldn't make any difference, if you had a light," answeredDick. The thought of a ghost had never bothered him very much.
Boldly the four boys entered what had once been a fine garden. The pathway was now overrun with weeds and bushes, and they had to pick their way with care. Then they ascended the piazza, the flooring of which was much decayed.
"Look out that you don't fall through somewhere, and break a leg," cautioned Tom. "This is worse than it looks from the outside."
"Wait till we get inside," said Sam. "Glad we brought a lantern." For a light had been taken along at the last minute.
They pushed open the front door and entered the broad hall. As they did so they heard a noise at the rear of the place.
"What was that?" asked Stanley nervously.
"Sounded like a door closing," answered Dick.
"Hello!" called out Tom. "Is any one here?"
To this call there was no answer. Nor was the noise they had heard repeated.
"Come on," said Dick bravely. "I am going to walk right through the house, room by room, from top to bottom."
"And we'll all go along," said Tom and Sam.
"Well, I am with you," came from Stanley. But he plainly showed that he did not relish what was before him.
The first room the boys entered was the parlor. It was totally dark, the blinds of the windows being tightly closed. It was full of cobwebs, which brushed their cheeks as they passed along.
"Certainly this was a fine mansion in its day," said Dick, as he threw the rays of the lantern around. "But it is utterly worthless now," he added as he gazed at the fallen ceilings and rotted woodwork.
"I fancy the ghosts are nothing but rats and bats," said Tom. "Come on," he continued. "It's damp enough to give one the rheumatism."
From the parlor they passed to a sitting-room. Here there was a huge open fireplace, filled with ashes and cobwebs. As they entered the room they heard a rushing noise in the chimney.
"What's that?" cried Stanley anxiously.
"Birds," answered Dick. "I suppose they have made their home in the chimney, since it is not used for fires."
In a corner of the sitting-room was an old table, and on it several musty books. The boys looked the books over, but found little to interest them. As relics the volumes were of no value.
"Come on to the dining-room," said Tom. "Maybe we'll find something good to eat."
"Ugh! I don't want anything here," answered Stanley with a shudder.
"Wouldn't you like a piece of ghost pie, or some specter doughnuts?" went on Tom, who was bound to have his fun.
"Nothing, thank you, Tom."
The dining-room of the house was in a wing, and to get to it they had to pass through a pair of folding doors which were all but closed. As they did so all heard a peculiar rustling sound, but from whence it came they could not tell.
"What was that?" asked Sam.
"I don't know," answered his oldest brother.
"Say, this room looks as if it had been used lately," cried Tom, as the rays of the lantern illuminated the apartment. "Why, it's quite homelike!"
"Maybe some tramps have had their headquarters here," said Dick. "It would be just like them to single out a spot like this."
"Yes, provided they weren't afraid of ghosts," came from Stanley.
"Tramps aren't usually afraid of anything but work," answered Tom dryly. "But this is queer, isn't it?" he added, as he picked up an empty cigar box. "Somebody must smoke good cigars—these were imported."
"Here is an empty liquor flask," said Stanley.
"And here are some empty wine bottles," added Sam.
"And here are some decks of playing-cards," put in Dick. "Yes, some persons have certainly used this as a hangout."
"What is this in the fireplace?" asked Tom as he pointed to something smoking there.
"It certainly has a vile smell!" exclaimed Stanley, making a wry face.
"That shows somebody has been here recently," was Dick's comment. "We had better be on guard if they are tramps."
"I can't stand that smell," said Tom. "I am going to get out."
The stuff in the fireplace, whatever it was, now burned up more brightly. It gave off a peculiar vapor that made the boys dizzy.
Tom turned to a door that led to the kitchen of the house. The door was shut, and he tried in vain to open it. The others were behind him and they, too, tried to open the barrier.
"Must be locked from the other side," said Tom. "Come on out the way we came in. Gracious! Isn't that awful stuff that is burning?" he added, for the vapor now filled the room completely.
In sudden alarm the four boys turned back toward the folding doors through which they had entered the dining-room. To their consternation, the doors were tightly shut.
"Who shut these?" asked Dick as he tried to open one of the doors.
"I didn't," said Sam.
"Neither did I," added Tom.
"Nobody touched the doors!" ejaculated Stanley. "It must be some of the ghost's work."
"Nonsense!" answered Dick sharply. "Somebody shut the doors—and locked 'em," he added after trying both. "Hi, you!" he called. "Open these doors, and be quick about it!"
"Thou fool, to come here!" exclaimed a hollow voice from the other side of the doors.
"It's the ghost! I said it was!" said Stanley,
"It's somebody fooling us," answered Tom. "Open the door, or we'll smash it down!" he added in a loud voice.
Instead of a reply there came a weird groan and then the rattle of some heavy chains. Stanley turned pale and began to tremble, but the Rovers were not much impressed.
"We don't believe in ghosts, so you might as well let us out!" criedDick. "That stuff you set on fire is smothering us!"
At this there was a murmur from the next room, but what was said the prisoners did not know.
"Come on, let us get out of a window!" cried Tom. His head was commencing to swim, and he could hardly see.
"Tha—that's it," murmured Sam. "Say, I'm—I'm—going—" He did not finish, but sank to the floor in a heap.
"Sam has been overcome!" cried Dick in horror.
"Oh, if only we hadn't come here!" groaned Stanley. "I—the window—I—am—smothering!" He took another step forward and then fell. Dick tried to pick him up, but went down also, with his brain in a whirl and strange lights flashing before his closed eyes.
Tom was the last to be overcome. He reached a window, only to find it tightly locked. He smashed the glass, but could not open the blinds. Then he went down; but before he closed his eyes he saw the door to the kitchen open and several masked faces appeared. He tried to say something, but the words would not come, and then all became a terrible dark blank around him.
For about half a minute after Tom went down nothing was done. Then the door to the kitchen was thrown wide open and four figures appeared. All wore sheets and masks.
"You are sure it won't kill any of them, Parwick?" asked a voice that sounded like Jerry Koswell's, and which was far from steady.
"Yes, I'm sure," answered the voice of a stranger. "But we don't want to leave them in this room too long. Take 'em below."
"If we get found out—" said another, and one could readily recognizeFlockley's voice.
"We won't get found out," put in a fourth person. It was Larkspur."Come ahead, and don't waste time here."
With great haste the masked ones picked up the three Rovers and Stanley and dragged them into the kitchen of the old house. Then one after another the unconscious ones were taken down into a dark and musty cellar and placed on some straw.
"Now to fix up the evidence!" cried Koswell. "We must be quick, or it may be too late!"
For all of a quarter of an hour the three Rover boys and Stanley Browne lay where they had been placed on the moldy straw. They breathed with difficulty, for the strange vapor still exercised its influence on their lungs.
At last Sam stirred and opened his eyes.
"Wha—what's the matter with me?" he murmured, and then sat up.
He could see next to nothing, for the cellar was dark. His head ached keenly, and he could not collect his senses. He also felt somewhat sick at the stomach.
"Dick! Tom!" he called. "Where are you?"
There was no reply, but presently he heard somebody stir.
"Don't—don't kill me!" murmured Stanley. "Take the ghosts away!"
"Stanley!" called Sam. "Whe—where are we?"
"Who—who is tha—that?" stammered Stanley, sitting up.
"It is I—Sam!"
"Whe—where are we, Sam?"
"I—I don't know."
"My head is go—going around like—like a top."
"So is mine. Tom! Dick!"
"Is that you, Sam?" came faintly from the elder Rover as he opened his eyes.
"Yes. Where is Tom?"
"Here, I guess, beside me." Dick shook his brother. "Tom! Tom! Wake up!" he cried. But Tom continued to lay quiet with his eyes tightly closed.
Sam was feeling in his pocket for a matchbox, and presently he brought the article forth and made a light. He was still so dizzy he could scarcely see about him. Stanley had fallen back again, gasping for breath.
By the dim light afforded by the match the two brothers looked at Tom.He was gasping in a strange, unnatural fashion.
"I believe he is choking to death!" said Dick hoarsely. "Air! He must have air!" He arose unsteadily to his feet. "Bring him here!"
And he made for a closed cellar window with all the strength he could command.