"I reckon I fooled you this trip. I was up in the tree all the time. By the time you get this I shall be miles away. Ta ta until the next time."
"I reckon I fooled you this trip. I was up in the tree all the time. By the time you get this I shall be miles away. Ta ta until the next time."
"Humph!" muttered Dick. "What do you think of that?" And he passed the message to his companion.
"He certainly fooled us," answered Mr. Laning. "I suppose those yells were only to put us off our guard. It's a pity we didn't carry his hat off for a souvenir of the occasion—as you youngsters put it." And the farmer grinned.
"Perhaps he is still around," suggested Dick. "If he tried to fool us once he might try to fool us again."
"That's so, too. It won't do any harm to take a good look around while we are at it, Dick."
They spent the whole of the morning walking around the swamp and in trying to trace the movements of Merrick, but without success. Nothing concerning the rascal was to be found, and when they felt both tired out and hungry they returned to the Stanhope cottage. Here the girls and the ladies had a hot dinner awaiting them and served them liberally, finishing up with apple pie that Dora had made for Dick's especial benefit.
"It's fine!" he said to her, on the sly.
"Then you like it?" she answered, with a smile.
"Do I? Dora, when we're keeping house you shall make me a pie like this twice a week," he added, earnestly.
"Dick, if you don't stop your joking——"
"Oh, I'm not joking, Dora. Of course, if you're not willing to make me a pie now and then——"
"Oh, it isn't that—I'll make all the pies you want. But—but——" And then Dora blushed so furiously that she had to run from the room. Dick looked after her longingly and heaved a mountainous sigh. He wished that all his academy days were over and that he was engaged in business and settled down in life. He knew just what kind of a home he wanted, and who he wanted in it besides himself—and perhaps Dora knew, too.
"But I can't think of those things yet," he mused, as he finished his dinner. "I've got to go out into the world first, get into business, and prove my worth."
The meal over, it was decided that Dick and Mr. Laning should drive to Cedarville and get into communication with the local authorities and also the authorities at Ithaca. This was done, and the following day another hunt was made for Merrick. But he could not be found; and there, for the time being, the affair rested.
"I think we'll hear from him again some day," said Dick, and he was right; they did hear from the swindler, and when they least expected it.
"Whoop! hurrah! it's snowing!"
Thus shouted Tom one day, as he burst into the library of the Hall, where Dick, Sam and a number of others were perusing books and the latest magazines.
"Hard?" queried Sam, dropping the magazine he held.
"No, but steady. Peleg Snuggers says it is going to be a heavy fall, and he generally knows."
"And he loves snowstorms so," put in Fred, with a laugh. "Do you remember the time we made a big fort and had a regular battle?"
"Indeed I do!" cried Larry. "It was great! We ought to have something of that sort this winter."
"I was hoping we'd get skating before it snowed," put in Songbird.
"Well, we can't have all the good things at once," answered Dick. "I think a heavy snowstorm is jolly. Somehow, when it snows I always feel like whistling and singing."
"And I feel like making up verses," murmured the poet of the school, and went on:
"Oh, the snow, the beautiful snow,Coming down when the wind does blow.Coming down both day and night,Leaving the earth a wonderful sight!Oh, the snow, the heavenly snow!—--""Wetting our feet wherever we go!"
"Oh, the snow, the beautiful snow,Coming down when the wind does blow.Coming down both day and night,Leaving the earth a wonderful sight!Oh, the snow, the heavenly snow!—--"
"Wetting our feet wherever we go!"
continued Tom, and added:
"Oh, the snow,When the wind doth blow,It sets a paceAnd hits our faceAnd we are frozeDown to the toesAnd in the slush,That's just like mush,We cannot stop,But go ker-flop!"
"Oh, the snow,When the wind doth blow,It sets a paceAnd hits our faceAnd we are frozeDown to the toesAnd in the slush,That's just like mush,We cannot stop,But go ker-flop!"
"Tom, the first thing you know, you'll be taking Songbird's laurels away from him," observed Larry.
"Perish the thought!" answered the fun-loving Rover, tragically.
"I don't hope you call that poetry," came from Songbird, in deep disgust. "Why, Hans can do better than that; can't you, Dutchy?"
"Sure, I can make up some find boetry," answered Hans. "Chust you listen to dis. I make him ub von night ven I couldn't go to sleep."
"Der vos a leetle pird,He sits ubon a dree,Dot leetle pird vos habbyLike von leetle pird could beA hunter mit a gunPy dot tree did lay,He shoot his awful gun,And dot pird—he fly avay!
"Der vos a leetle pird,He sits ubon a dree,Dot leetle pird vos habbyLike von leetle pird could beA hunter mit a gunPy dot tree did lay,He shoot his awful gun,And dot pird—he fly avay!
"Good for Hans!" cried Dick, and there was a general laugh. Then the gathering in the library broke up and all the cadets went outside to see how the snow looked. Before long there was enough on the ground to make snowballs, and then a battle royal all around ensued. So long as they took care not to break any windows, Captain Putnam did not mind this, and from his office the master of the Hall and George Strong watched the sport.
"Makes one feel young again," remarked the captain to his first assistant.
"I'd half like to go out myself," answered George Strong.
"I remember one year we had a great snowball fight at West Point," went on the captain. "It was carried out in regular army fashion and lasted half a day. Our side was victorious, but we had to fight desperately to win. I was struck in the chin and the ear, and three of the cadets were knocked unconscious. But it was good practice, for it showed us something of what a hand-to-hand struggle meant."
The snow came down all that day and night, and by the following morning covered the ground to the depth of about a foot. It was somewhat moist and first-class for the making of snow men and snowballs.
"Let's make a statue of Captain Putnam," said Fred, and this was done, the statue being nearly ten feet high. It must be confessed it was not a very good likeness, but it looked remarkably fierce with some straws for a moustache, a flat wooden stick for a sword, and an old army cap on the top of the head. When he saw it, Captain Putnam laughed as heartily as anybody. Old as he was getting, he never allowed himself to forget the time when he was a boy.
Some distance from the Hall was a fair-sized hill and this was used by the cadets for coasting. As soon as school was over that day the lads brought out their sleds and bobs, and soon the hill was filled with boys, their merry laughter ringing far and wide. The Rovers had a big bob and this was used by the three and also by several of their friends.
"I'll race you!" shouted Dick, who was in charge of the bob. He addressed another student named Peter Slade. Slade had a big bob and had been boasting that this could beat any other bob on the hill.
"All right," answered Slade. He was a lanky youth, rather lazy, and given to much boasting.
It was soon arranged that each bob should carry six boys, and Fred, Hans and Songbird went with the Rovers. The two bobs lined up side by side, and Larry Colby gave the word to go.
"We're off!" shouted Tom, giving a shove, and leaping on behind.
At first the two bobs kept side by side. The slide was in fine condition, and all the other cadets lined up on either side to watch the outcome of the race.
"Hurrah for the Rovers!"
"Hurrah for Peter Slade!"
"May the best bob win!" cried one student, enthusiastically.
"Here's luck to you, Tom!" shouted George Granbury, and threw a snowball that caught Tom in the neck.
"Thanks!" shouted Tom, shaking his fist. "I'll pay that back with interest when I get the chance."
Half of the course was soon covered and still the bobs kept side by side. But then the Rovers' bob began to drag behind.
"Hurrah, we are going to win!" cried one of the boys on the other bob.
"Said I could beat you!" yelled Peter Slade to Dick.
"The race isn't ended yet," flung back the eldest Rover boy.
On and on went the two bobs, and gradually that belonging to Peter Slade drew a full length ahead. Dick glanced back anxiously.
"Something seems to be catching under the runners," he said, "Look and see if everything is clear."
The boys behind looked, and then of a sudden Songbird let out a cry.
"It is Hans' tippet! Hans, go and put that tippet end around your neck and don't let it drag under the bob!"
The German youth was wearing an old-fashion tippet around his neck, the loose ends flying behind. One end had gotten under the bob runners and was scratching along in the snow.
"Vell I neffer!" cried Hans, and pulled on the tippet so vigorously that the long bob began to switch around sideways.
"Look out there!" sang out Sam. "Don't throw us off!"
"Wait, I'll loosen the tippet," came from Songbird, and guided the muffler free of the bob. Then Hans took up the ends and tied them around his waist.
The drag had caused the Rovers' bob to get two lengths behind the other, and Peter Slade and his companions felt certain of winning.
"You can't touch us, Dick Rover!" called Slade, triumphantly.
"Good-bye!" called another boy. "We'll tell those at the bottom of the hill that you are coming."
"Are we making better time?" questioned Tom, anxiously. "If we are not I'll get off and shove," he added, jokingly.
"You hold tight now!" yelled Dick, and an instant later the bob went down over a ridge of the hill. Free of the drag, it shot forth like an arrow from a bow, and soon began to crawl up to Peter Slade's turnout.
"The Rovers are crawling up!"
"Yes, but it's too late to win!"
"We've got to win!" called out Sam.
And then both bobs took another ridge and rushed on to the end of the course, less than a hundred yards away.
The race had now reached its critical point and all of the cadets on the hill waited for the outcome with keen interest. The bob owned by Peter Slade was still two lengths in advance, and it looked very much as if Peter would be the victor.
But with the passing of the last ridge the Rovers' bob seemed to become endowed with new life. With no drag on the runners, it shot forward with a speed that surprised even Dick. Steadily it gained on the other bob, until, when the end of the course was but fifty yards away, the two were almost side by side.
"Let her out, Pete!" cried one of the boys on Slade's bob, but Peter could do no more.
"It's a tie race!" called several, but hardly had the words been spoken when the Rovers' bob shot ahead, and reached the end of the course a winner by twenty-five feet.
"Hurrah! the Rovers win!"
"I tell you what, you can't get ahead of Dick Rover and his crowd!"
Peter Slade was much chagrinned to have the victory snatched from him, and began to mutter something about the race not being a fair one.
"I agree with you, it was not fair," answered Sam. "Hans' tippet caught under our runners and held us up a good deal."
"If it hadn't been for that we would have won by three times the distance," added Tom.
"Humph!" muttered Peter Slade. "I guess you jumped off once and pushed."
"I did not," answered Tom, hotly.
"I think you did."
"And I say I didn't," and now Tom doubled up his fists.
"Oh, don't quarrel," put in Larry, who was near. "If Peter isn't satisfied why not race over again?"
"I am willing," answered Dick, promptly.
"I'm tired of riding," said Slade. "I—er—I am not feeling extra well and it shakes me up too much."
"Then let some of the others use the bob."
"No, it needs overhauling, and I am going to have it fixed up," was Slade's answer, and began to move off toward the Hall, dragging his bob after him.
"He's afraid to race," said George. "My! how mad it makes some fellows to get beaten!"
It may be mentioned here that Peter Slade had been one of Tad Sobber's cronies, and now that Sobber was gone he took it on his shoulders to fill the bully's place in the particular set to which he belonged. He was a quick-tempered youth, and had been in more than one fight since his arrival at Putnam Hall.
The boys who could not ride on the hill amused themselves by making some big snowballs, which they allowed to roll down another hill. One of the snowballs made was fully eight feet in diameter, and it was a great sight to see this go down, getting bigger and bigger as it progressed.
"Hello, I've got an idea!" cried Tom, as he watched the rolling of the big snowballs.
"Something brand new, Tom?" queried Larry.
"I think so. Let us give Peleg Snuggers a roll. It will do him good—shake up his liver, and all that."
"You mean to roll him down this hill?" asked a student named Morley.
"That's it."
"Might hurt him."
"Not if we put a snow overcoat on him first," answered Tom.
"What do you mean?" asked another student.
"Let us roll a big ball the shape of an egg and hollow out the middle. Then by some trick we can get Peleg to crawl inside, and——"
"That's the thing!" cried George Garrison. "Come on. Where is Peleg?"
"Down at the stables."
With eager hands the cadets set to work and rolled up a big ball in the shape of an egg and then dug out the middle with a shovel. In the meantime a message was sent to the general utility man that he was wanted at the top of the hill at once.
"Must want me to mend a sled," he mused, and hurried off, taking with him some tools, nails and cord. He often did favors for the cadets, who gave him "tips" in return.
When Peleg Snuggers arrived at the top of the hill the big snowball was ready for use.
"Here is Peleg!" cried Tom. "He can do the trick for us. Can't you, Peleg?"
"What is that, Tom?" asked the general utility man, innocently.
"We want to fasten this cord in the hole through that big snowball, but we don't want to get it crossed," went on Tom, anxiously. "Will you take the cord, crawl in there and then pass the end out and over the end of this shovel, and then loop it over to the other end?"
"Why—er—I don't understand," stammered Peleg Snuggers.
"I'll explain after you are inside the ball," said Tom. "Here's the cord," and he led the general utility man to the hole and helped him to get down.
Not suspecting a trick, Snuggers crawled into the big snowball. Before he could do anything with the cord given to him the cadets rushed forward and gave the snowball a push toward the edge of the hill.
"Hi! stop that!" roared the general utility man, trying to back out.
"Hold tight—the snowball is getting away from us!" yelled Tom. "Somebody keep it from going down the hill!"
"We can't hold it back!" screamed Larry, grinning at the same time.
"It's bound to go—too bad!" wailed another.
"Say, let me git out!" yelled Peleg Snuggers, but at that moment the snowball began to turn over. "I'll be killed! Oh, dear, I think you did this a-purpose, you rascals!"
"Never!" came back promptly.
"Enjoy the ride while you have the chance, Peleg!"
"You've got a free ticket to the bottom of the hill!"
"Let me out! Stop her!" yelled Snuggers, and they saw his feet at one end of the big snowball and his hands at the other. "I can't stand rollin', nohow!"
"You're not standing," called Sam. "You are just rolling."
Away went the big snowball, down the long hill, and the cadets after it. As it progressed it grew larger and larger. They saw Peleg Snuggers shove out his head from one end, and the head went around and around like a top.
"I guess he'll be rather dizzy when the trip's ended," observed Songbird.
At last the snowball came to a stop in a stretch of meadow land. The students rushed up just in time to see Peleg Snuggers crawl out on his hands and knees. When he arose he staggered around as if intoxicated.
"Say, you young villains!" he gasped, and then had to stop to catch his breath.
"Oh, Peleg, why did you run away with our snowball?" asked Tom, innocently.
"It was a mean thing to do," put in Dick.
"We wanted some fun with that ball," added Sam.
"I—run—off—with the—the snowball?" gasped the general utility man. "I want you to know——"
"Oh, we know all about it," interrupted Tom. "I know what's the matter. You've been drinking, and didn't know what you were doing."
"Perhaps we had better report this to Captain Putnam," said Larry. "Drinking isn't allowed around here, you know."
"I hain't drunk a drop—it's the rollin' as made me dizzy," roared Peleg Snuggers. "Oh, dear, I can't stand straight," and he bumped up against the big snowball and sat down in a heap.
"I'll tell you what I think you ought to do," proceeded Tom, calmly. "I think you ought to roll our snowball back up the hill for us."
"Roll it back?" snorted Snuggers. "Why, four hosses couldn't pull that weight o' snow up the hill! I ain't going to tech the snowball."
"Then at least pay us for the ride you've had," suggested Sam.
"I ain't goin' to do that nuther! It's a trick that's what it is!" growled the general utility man, and arose unsteadily. "I'll be sick for a week after this, I know I will!"
"Never mind," said Dick, soothingly. "Just get Mrs. Green to give you a dose of pink Whirl Around Pills, and you'll be all right again."
"I shan't never come out to this hill again, not fer nobody," grumbled the general utility man, and walked off. Then he turned to gaze at the cadets. "You do anything like that again an' I'll tell Captain Putnam on ye, see if I don't. I ain't going to be no merry-go-'round, or spinnin' top fer nobody!" And then he hurried for the stables and disappeared.
Almost before they knew it, the mid-winter holidays were at hand, and the Rover boys went home to enjoy Christmas and New Year. On their way they stopped at several stores in Ithaca, where they purchased a number of Christmas presents. Some of these they mailed at the post-office. Dick sent a nice book to Dora, and Tom and Sam sent books to Grace and Nellie. The boys also united in the gift of a stick pin to Mrs. Stanhope and another to Mrs. Laning, and sent Mr. Laning a necktie. Captain Putnam was not forgotten, and they likewise remembered George Strong. The rest of their purchases they took home, for distribution there.
A number of the other students had come as far as Ithaca with them, and here the crowd had dinner at one of the hotels,—the same place where Tom had once played his great joke on Josiah Crabtree.
"By the way, who knows anything about Nick Pell?" asked one of the students, while dining.
"He has been removed to his home in the city," answered George Granbury.
"Is he better?" questioned Dick.
"They say he is better some days, but at other times he is worse. The poison somehow affected his mind."
"What a terrible thing to happen," murmured the eldest Rover, and then shuddered to think what might have ensued had the snake bitten him.
"Any news of Tad Sobber?" asked another cadet. He looked at each of the others, but all shook their heads.
"It's queer where he went to," said Songbird. "Wonder if Captain Putnam tried to communicate with his folks?"
"He has only an uncle, and the captain couldn't find him," answered another youth who was present.
As the dinner progressed the boys warmed up, and at the conclusion they sang several songs. Then the Rovers had to rush for their train and they caught it just as it was pulling out of the station.
"Hullo!" cried Sam, as he dropped into a seat, and he pointed out of the car window.
"What's up now?" queried Tom.
"I saw a fellow on the depot platform who looked like Tad Sobber!"
"Are you sure it was Sobber?" demanded Dick.
"No, I am not dead certain—but the fellow looked a good deal like Tad."
"Must have been a mistake," was Tom's comment. "What would he be doing around Ithaca?"
"Well, he's got to stay somewhere, Tom."
"But he wouldn't stay so close to Cedarville—he'd probably go to some big city," put in Dick.
As the train rushed on the Rover boys talked the matter over, but could make nothing out of it.
"I suppose he is in hiding waiting to see if Nick Pell will recover," said Dick. "He knows that if Nick doesn't get over his trouble he'll be liable to prosecution."
At the station at Oak Run the boys found their father awaiting them with the big family sleigh. All piled in, and over the crisp snow they started for Valley Brook farm.
"I need not ask how you are feeling," said Anderson Rover. "Every one of you looks the picture of health."
"I never felt better in my life," declared Dick, and Tom and Sam said the same.
"Has Uncle Randolph heard anything more of his traction company bonds?" asked Tom, as they drove along.
"Not a word more," answered his father. "It is a great loss to him."
"Do you suppose the game was tried on anybody else?" asked Sam.
"We have not heard of it."
Arriving at home, the boys were warmly greeted by their uncle and their aunt and also by the others around the house. Their aunt had a hot supper awaiting them, and while they ate this the whole subject of the missing bonds was thoroughly discussed. The boys learned that a private detective was still on the trail of Merrick and Pike, but so far had reported nothing of importance.
"I believe those rascals,—or at least Merrick—must belong around Lake Cayuga," observed Dick. "Otherwise we shouldn't have seen Merrick in Ithaca and up at the Stanhope place."
"I was very simple to let them get the best of me. The next time I shall be more careful," said Randolph Rover.
The boys learned from Jack Ness that hunting in the woods back of the farm was good, and two days before Christmas they went out with the hired man. They went for rabbits and squirrels, and each took his shotgun along and a substantial lunch, for they expected to be out the greater part of the day.
It was clear, cold weather, the sun glistening brightly on the snow. They journeyed directly for a portion of the woods they knew was a favorite spot for rabbits, and it was not long before they started up several.
"There they go!" cried Dick, and took aim. Bang! bang! went his gun, and the reports of Tom's firearm followed. Three rabbits came down, and a few minutes later Sam brought another one low.
"Four for a starter are not so bad," remarked Tom, as the game was placed in their bags. "Even if we don't get any more we won't have to go home empty-handed."
By noon they had made their way directly through the woods and had eleven rabbits and three squirrels to their credit. Then Tom suggested they build a campfire and rest while eating their lunch and this was done.
"I wish we could bring down a fox or two," said Jack Ness. "They have been bothering the chickens again lately—carried off two only night before last."
"Do you know where they hang out?" asked Dick.
"I think they come from over yonder," and the hired man pointed with his hand to the northward.
"Let us travel in that direction after dinner," suggested Sam. "Even if we don't spot any foxes we may find as many rabbits and squirrels there as anywhere else."
The others were willing, and half of the afternoon was spent by the four hunters in a locality that was new to them. One fox was sighted, and Jack Ness shot the animal in the hind quarters, and then Sam finished him by a shot in the side.
"Well, that makes one fox less anyway," said the hired man.
They kept on, and brought down two rabbits and a wild turkey. By this time they were pretty well tired out, and Tom suggested that they start for home.
"It's a long tramp," he said, "and by the time we get back I guess we'll all be ready to rest."
"As for that, I am ready to rest now," said Sam. "Tramping through the snow is no easy task."
"Especially if a fellow's legs aren't very long," returned Dick, with a grin.
"Well, mine are as long as they ought to be," came from Sam, promptly. "They reach to the ground, and yours don't reach any further," and then there was a general laugh, Jack Ness guffawing loudly.
The hired man said he knew of a short cut to the farm, and they followed him to something of a path through the woods and then out on a trail made years before by charcoal burners. Soon they came in sight of a cabin, from the chimney of which the smoke was curling.
"Who lives here?" asked Dick.
"An old man named Derringham," answered Jack Ness. "He is very old and somewhat out of his head. He makes his living by selling herbs and barks for medicine. Years ago, so they say, he was an herb doctor, but he didn't have a certificate, or something like that, so the authorities drove him out of business. After that he got queer and took to the woods."
"Let us go in and see him," said Tom, whose curiosity was aroused. He walked boldly up to the hut and knocked loudly on the dilapidated door.
"Who is that, Pop?" he heard somebody ask, in a startled voice.
"I don't know, sir," was the answer, in the voice of an old man.
"I don't want to see anybody," went on the first speaker. "Send him away, whoever he is."
"Go away!" cried the old man. "I don't want anybody around here."
By this time all of the party outside were at the door. Tom's face showed that he was laboring under sudden surprise.
"Evidently the old man doesn't want visitors," was Dick's comment.
"There is somebody else in there with him," whispered Tom. "From his voice I should say it was Bill Dangler!"
The others were much astonished by what Tom said, and they could scarcely believe that they had heard aright.
"Bill Dangler!" cried Sam, but Tom put his hand over his brother's mouth to silence him. Then he nodded vigorously.
"What would that freight thief be doing here?" questioned Dick, in a whisper.
"I am sure I don't know. But I am almost certain it was Dangler's voice. If you will remember, it has a certain shrillness to it."
"Yes, I know that."
During this talk there were murmurs in the cabin which those outside could not understand. Then the old man came towards the door and slipped a bolt into place.
"I want you to go away!" he said sharply. "I don't like strangers around here."
"We won't hurt you, Mr. Derringham," said Dick. "We came to pay you a friendly visit."
"Wouldn't you like a nice rabbit from us?" asked Tom, bound to get into the cabin somehow.
"I have no money with which to buy rabbits."
"We'll make you a present of one," said Sam.
"I want no presents from anybody. I want you to go away," said the old man, in a high-pitched, nervous tone.
"Mr. Derringham, don't you remember me?" asked Jack Ness. "I used to buy herbs and watercress from you. I'd like to speak to you for a minute."
"Who are you?"
"I am Jack Ness, the man who works over on the Rover farm."
"The Rover farm!" muttered a voice in the cabin. "Don't let them in! Don't you do it!"
"I am sure that is Dangler!" cried Tom, whose ears were on the alert. "If he is really there we have him cornered!"
"Yes, and he shan't get away from us again," added Dick.
"If he tries it we can halt him with a dose of buckshot," put in Sam.
After that there was a pause, the boys not knowing exactly how to proceed. Tom pressed on the door, but it refused to give way.
"I tell you I want you to leave!" cried the old man, after some more whispering in the cabin. "If you don't go away I'll get my gun."
"There are four of us and all armed," answered Dick. "So you had better not do any shooting. But you have got to open that door. We will do you no harm."
"What do you want in here?"
"We want to see who is in there with you?" answered Tom, boldly.
"Don't you know that I am alone?"
"You are not alone," said Sam.
"Well, I know best," was the hesitating answer. "If I was sure you wouldn't hurt me I'd let you in."
"We will not harm you in the least," answered Dick.
There was a moving around in the cabin and what seemed to be the dropping of a door. Then old Derringham came forward again.
"You are sure you won't rob me if I open the door?" he asked.
"We mean you no harm—if you will do what is right," said Tom.
Then the door was thrown open and the Rover boys and Jack Ness were confronted by a man at least seventy years of age. He had snow-white hair and a snowy beard that reached to his waist.
The boys and the hired man went hastily into the cabin and looked around. Nobody but Derringham was in sight. Dick looked at the floor under the table and saw something which looked like a trap door.
"He must have gone into the cellar," said he to the others, and made a movement forward.
"Stop, do not touch that table!" cried the old man, in alarm.
"Mr. Derringham, listen to me," said the eldest Rover boy firmly. "We are after a criminal—a man who for years robbed the railroad company of valuable freight. We know he is somewhere around your place. If you shield this criminal, or aid him in getting away, you will be guilty of a crime."
At this strong assertion the old man began to tremble, and he looked from one to another of those before him in alarm.
"I—I Bill Dangler said it was not true—that it was a plot against him," he murmured.
"It is true, and there is no plot against him, excepting to make him pay the penalty of his crimes," put in Tom. "If you have hidden him you had better give him up."
"I know you," said old Derringham, turning to Jack Ness. "You used to pay me good prices for what you bought of me. Can I trust you?" he went on, pleadingly.
"Certainly you can, and you can trust these boys, too," was the hired man's reply. "If you want to keep out of trouble you had better help us all you can."
By this time Dick had the table shoved to one side. Under the bottom of one of the legs he found a small iron ring, connecting with the door in the floor. He pulled on this and the door came up, showing a small cellar below, used chiefly by the old man for the storage of winter vegetables and the roots he gathered.
"Dangler, you might as well come up!" called out Dick. "It won't do you any good to try to hide."
"What do you want of me?" came in a sullen voice from below.
"You know very well what we want."
"I haven't done anything."
"You can tell that to the police, after you are locked up. Come up."
Slowly and with downcast face Bill Dangler crawled from the small cellar and pulled himself up to the floor of the cabin. He gazed reproachfully at the old man, who was again trembling.
"I'll fix you for going back on me," he muttered.
"They say you are a thief," answered the old man. "If you are, I want nothing more to do with you. I am poor, but I am honest—everybody who knows me knows that."
"He shall not harm you," put in Tom. "He'll soon be behind the bars."
A glance at the party of four, with their shotguns, convinced the freight thief that escape was out of the question.
"I suppose I'll have to give up," he growled. "But I ain't as guilty as you may think I am."
"You are guilty enough," said Sam.
"I didn't plan those freight robberies."
"Who did then?" questioned Tom.
"Merrick and Pike. I don't mind telling on them, for they have gone back on me."
"Is Merrick the head of the gang?" asked Dick.
"Yes."
"Where is he now?"
"If I tell will you let me go?"
"I can't do that, Dangler."
"Well, I don't care anyway. Merrick hasn't treated me right, and he ought to suffer. He has a hangout a few miles from the city of Ithaca, if you know where that is."
"Yes, on Lake Cayuga."
"That's it."
"You say a few miles from the city," pursued Sam. "What do you mean by that?"
"He and some of his friends, Pike among them, have a meeting place along the lake. It's an old house, unpainted, and with very narrow windows, so I've been told. You find that house and likely you'll find Merrick and Pike."
"I thought those chaps were from the city?" said Sam.
"They are, but every once in a while they find it convenient to disappear, and then they go to that place on Lake Cayuga. It's an old homestead that used to belong to Merrick's sister."
"We ought to be able to find that place," said Tom to his brothers. "Especially if it was a homestead."
"Was the sister's name Merrick, too, or was she married?" asked Sam.
"She was a widow, so I was told. When she died she left her son in charge of Merrick—but I don't believe he ever looked after the boy very much."
"What was her name?" asked Dick.
"Sobber—Mary Ann Sobber."
"Sobber!" ejaculated the three Rover boys.
"That's it."
"Did you ever hear the son's name?" asked Dick.
"I don't remember—yes, I do. Merrick had a letter from him once. The boy's name was Tad Sobber. He was at a boarding school somewhere."
"What do you think of that?"
"Isn't that the greatest ever!"
"Well, I'm sorry for Tad."
Such were the exclamations from the three Rover boys after listening to Bill Dangler's declaration that the lad who had run away from Putnam Hall was the nephew of Merrick.
"Are you certain of this?" asked Dick.
"Certainly I am. But why are you so interested in Merrick's sister and her son?"
"I will tell you," answered Tom. "Tad Sobber used to go to school with us, but he ran away a short while ago and we haven't heard from him since."
"Phew! so that's it! Maybe he's with his uncle."
"Like as not. I wonder if he knows his uncle is a thief?"
"I don't know anything about that. Sid Merrick is a sly one and can put on the most innocent front you ever saw."
"What do you know about Pike?"
"Oh, John Pike is only a tool, same as I was."
After that Bill Dangler seemed anxious to relieve his mind, and he related many of the particulars of the freight robberies. He said that all had been planned by Sid Merrick, and that two other men were implicated besides himself and Pike and named the men. He said that Merrick had sold the stolen stuff in various large cities.
"Did he divide with the others?" asked Dick.
"He was supposed to do it, but I don't think any of us ever got our full share."
Old Derringham listened to the thief's recital with keen interest. But presently he rushed forward and caught Bill Dangler by the arm.
"I want you to go!" he cried, almost fiercely. "I want no thief under my roof!"
"He shall go, and at once," declared Dick. "It is getting late, and it is a long tramp to Oak Run."
"He owes me a dollar for keeping him several days," went on the old man.
"Then he had better pay you," said Tom.
Dangler wanted to demur, but in the end he paid for his board, and then the whole party left, the old man gazing after them curiously. That he had been entirely innocent in the affair there could not be the slightest doubt.
"Now, Dangler, it won't do you any good to try to get away," said Dick, as they tramped along through the snow. "We are four to one and armed."
"I won't try to run away," was the dogged answer.
"If you give the authorities all the help you can, perhaps, when it comes to a trial, they will be a little easy on you," put in Tom.
"I hope so. I was coaxed into this. I used to be an honest man," responded the freight thief.
"Well, before you die, you'll learn that 'honesty is the best policy,'" observed Sam.
"I've learned that already. I've lost all my old friends, and I can't show myself anywhere any more."
The crowd had to tramp a good mile and a half before they reached a farmhouse where they could procure a team and a sleigh big enough to take all of them to Oak Run. Then they set off at a fast pace and at about supper time reached the Rover farm.
Those at the farm were much astonished at the "game brought in," as Anderson Rover declared. The boys waited long enough to get a meal, and gave the prisoner something to eat, and then they set off for Oak Run with their father and Dangler. Here the freight thief was placed in the custody of the local constable, who locked the man up in the garret of his own home.
That night and the next day the telegraph and telephone were kept busy, and some officers of the law from Ithaca visited the old Sobber homestead. They found the place deserted and no trace of Merrick, Pike or Tad Sobber was to be found.
"It is too bad," declared Dick, when the news came in. "I thought sure we'd round up the rascals."
From the authorities the boys learned one thing—that the Sobber homestead was on the same road that ran past the Stanhope cottage.
"That may account for Merrick coming and looking in the window that night," said Dick. "Maybe he was traveling past and wanted to see what was going on."
"More than likely he was looking for a chance to rob the place," was Tom's grim comment.
On Christmas day the boys received a number of valuable presents and gave everybody presents in return. There was a grand family dinner, such as only their aunt Martha could prepare, and it is needless to say that all did full justice to the spread. After dinner the lads went out snowballing and got Aleck Pop and Jack Ness to do the same. The boys snowballed the colored man and Jack Ness so vigorously that the pair had to run for the barn.
"My sakes alibe, boys!" cried Aleck Pop, after he had received a snowball in the ear. "Yo' dun work yo' snowballs lik da was comin' from a Gatling gun!"
During the week between Christmas and New Year, Bill Dangler was removed to the county jail, there to await the action of the grand jury. In the meantime the authorities continued the hunt for Merrick, Pike and the others, but without success.
"I'd really like to know what has become of Tad Sobber," remarked Dick. "It is a pity if he is dependent upon such a fellow as Merrick for his support."
"Perhaps his mother left him money," said Tom.
At last came the day when the boys returned to Putnam Hall. On the train they fell in with Larry Colby and George Granbury, and told of what they had learned.
"I heard from Nick Pell yesterday," said Larry. "He is getting better gradually, but it will be some time before he is himself again."
"Does he still blame Tad Sobber?"
"Yes, and he says he will never have anything to do with Sobber again."
"Nobody can blame him for that," said Sam.
"I don't believe Sobber will ever return to Putnam Hall," came from Tom. "Especially when he finds out that we know he is the nephew of such a swindler as Merrick."
In a few days the boys settled down again to their studies. The Rovers were exceedingly anxious to make records for themselves, and whenever a lesson was too hard for Tom or Sam, Dick helped them all he could. The eldest Rover boy was sorry he had missed his former position by being absent, but he was delighted to know that he and his brothers would now finish their schooling at Putnam Hall together.
"I couldn't bear to think of being separated from you," he said to Tom and Sam.
"We don't want to be separated," returned Tom.
"That's the talk!" declared Sam. "We'll stick together always!"
About a week after the return to school the snow cleared away and then came a cold snap that made excellent skating. At once all the boys got out their skates, and during their off hours they had great fun on the lake.
One afternoon a race was arranged between half a dozen boys, including Dick, Larry Colby and Peter Slade. Slade was sure he would win, and went around boasting of it.
"I have been in six races on skates," he declared, "and I won every one of them."
"He must be a famous skater," said Tom, when he learned of this. "Dick, I don't think you'll stand much show against him."
"I don't know. Do you know what I think of Peter Slade? I think he is a big blower."
"I think that myself. Still, if he has won six races he must know something about racing."
"Well, if I lose I shan't cry over it," said Dick, and there the talk ended.
The race was to be for two miles,—a mile up the lake shore and a mile back. At the appointed hour the contestants lined up, and at a word from George Strong, who had consented to start them, they were off.
It was easy to see that Peter Slade was a good skater, and with hardly an effort he went to the front during the first quarter of the race. But then Larry and Dick began to push him, and when the mile turn was made Larry was but two yards in the rear, with Dick almost on his heels.
"Go it, Slade, you can win easily!"
"Catch him, Larry!"
"Put on more steam, Dick!" yelled Tom, enthusiastically.
And then the turning point was passed by all the racers and the struggle on the homestretch commenced.
For nearly half a mile Peter Slade kept the lead with ease, but then his breath began to fail him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw both Larry and Dick crawling up.
"No, you don't!" he muttered, and put on a fresh burst of speed that increased his lead by two yards.
"Peter Slade is going to win!"
"See how he is running away from the others!"
So the cries arose and it certainly looked as if the youth mentioned could not possibly be defeated.
But now both Larry and Dick "dug in for all they were worth," as they themselves expressed it. While there was yet a quarter of a mile to be covered Dick made a spurt and ranged up alongside of his chum.
"Sorry, but I've got to go ahead!" he cried, gaily.
"Come on, we'll both go!" yelled Larry, good naturedly, and then the pair put on a fresh effort and in a moment ranged up on either side of Peter Slade.
"Hullo, they are in a line!"
"There goes Larry Colby ahead!"
"Dick Rover is going with him!"
"Say, but that is skating, eh? Just look at Dick strike out!"
"Sandwick is coming up, too!"
"And so is Marley!"
The last reports were true. The fourth and fifth boy were now directly behind Slade. As Dick and Larry shot ahead, still side by side, Sandwick overtook Slade and so did Marley. In the meantime the sixth boy had lost a skate and dropped out.
With a final desperate effort Peter Slade tried to gain first place. But his wind was gone and his strength also, and he dropped back further and further.
"Hurrah, here they come!"
"It's a tie race between Dick and Larry!"
"Marley is third!"
"Yes, and Sandwick fourth."
"Peter Slade is fifth."
"Humph! And Peter said he was bound to win!"
Then over the line shot the skaters, Dick and Larry side by side and laughing merrily. As soon as the race was ended they locked arms to show their good feeling. Then Marley came in with Sandwick at his heels. In deep disgust Peter Slade refused to finish, but circled to one side and hurried to the boathouse, there to take off his skates and disappear.
"It was a well-skated race," declared George Strong. Then he asked Dick and Larry if they wanted to skate off the tie.
"We won't bother," said Dick, after consulting his chum. "We are satisfied to let it stand as it is, considering that there was no prize to be awarded."
The fact that he had lost the skating race made Peter Slade more sour than ever, and after that, whenever he met Dick, he glared at the eldest Rover boy defiantly.
"He acts as if he had a personal grudge against me," said Dick to his brothers.
"Well, he acts that way to me, too," answered Tom.
"He ought to have his head punched well," was Sam's comment.
Peter Slade did not seem to care that Larry had beaten him—his enmity was directed mainly at Dick.
Slade was in one of the lower classes, but one day one of the teachers announced a lecture on the battleships of the American navy, and a large number of boys came in to listen and to take notes.
In the midst of the lecture Dick had occasion to pass down one of the aisles. As he went by Peter Slade the latter put out his hand and hit him in the knee. Slade's hand had ink on it and the ink went on Dick's clean uniform.
"What did you do that for?" demanded Dick, halting.
"Shut up!" whispered Slade, uglily.
"I've a good mind to box your ears," went on Dick.
"Will you?" roared the bully, leaping up. "Just try it!" And so speaking he made a pass at Dick's head.
The blow landed on Dick's shoulder, leaving an ink mark behind it. The eldest Rover boy had leaped to one side. But now he leaped forward, and a well-directed blow from his fist sent Slade reeling backward over a desk.
"Stop that!" cried the teacher, in alarm, and brought his lecture to an abrupt end.
"A fight! A fight!" cried several of the boys, and left their seats to surround Dick and the bully.
Slade was dazed for a moment, but on recovering he sprang at Dick and tried to force him to the floor. Around and around went the pair, bumping against the desks and sending some books to the floor. The teacher tried to get at them, but before he could do so they had separated. Then Dick hit Slade a telling blow in the left eye which caused the bully to fall into a nearby seat.
"Stop, this instant!" cried the teacher, and then turning to some of the boys added: "Summon Captain Putnam at once."
The room was in an uproar, and many wanted Dick and Slade to continue the battle. But the punch in the eye had taken away the bully's courage and he did not get up to continue the contest.
"What does this mean?" demanded Captain Putnam, as he came in, and he faced Dick and Slade sternly.
"It means that that fellow ought to have a good thrashing, sir," answered Dick, boldly, and pointed at the bully.
"It's his fault, it ain't mine," put in Peter Slade, hastily. "He started it."
"That is not true, Captain Putnam. I was passing his seat when he reached out and smeared ink on my knee," and Dick pointed down to his soiled trousers. "I wasn't going to stand for that and told him so. Then he jumped up and hit me in the shoulder, leaving more ink on me. After that I hit him."
"It ain't so!" roared Peter Slade.
"That's the truth," said several. "Peter's hand is full of ink."
"He knocked over an inkwell just before Dick came along," said Fred. "I saw him do it."
"So did I," added Songbird.
"Did you see it?" questioned Captain Putnam of the instructor.
"I saw nothing until the boys were fighting in the aisle," answered the teacher who had been delivering the lecture.
"Captain Putnam, I am sure Dick Rover is not to blame," said a very quiet student named Rames. "Slade put the ink on Rover and struck the first blow—of that I am positive."
"It was my inkwell he knocked over," came from another lad. "I told him to leave it alone, but he wouldn't mind me."
"Oh, you are all against me!" roared Peter Slade.
"Evidently you are guilty," said the master of the Hall, sternly. "I want both you and Richard Rover to come to my office. Rames, you can come, too, and you also, Brocton."
In the office a thorough investigation was held. Several other cadets were called upon to testify, and it was proved that Peter Slade was entirely to blame for what had occurred.
"You should not have attacked him, Richard," said the captain to Dick. "But under the circumstances I cannot blame you. You may go."
For his misconduct Peter Slade was confined in the "guardhouse" for three days. The black eye Dick had given him did not go away very fast and when he came out and resumed his place among the students he was a sight to behold. That he was very angry at the eldest Rover boy is easily imagined.
"I'll fix him some day," he muttered.
"Dick, you want to watch Slade," said Tom, one day, on passing the bully in the hallway.
"I guess you had better watch him yourself, Tom."
"I am going to do that, don't fear. What did the captain do about your mussed-up uniform?"
"Made Slade pay for having it cleaned."
"Did he do it?"
"He had to do it—Captain Putnam put it on the bill to his folks."
"That was right."
"Of course it was. But I understand it made Slade as mad as hops. Oh, he surely has it in for us," went on Dick, and there the subject was dropped.
Almost before the boys knew it winter was gone and spring was at hand. The ice on the lake disappeared like magic, and the hills back of Putnam Hall took on a fresh greenness pleasant to behold.
With the coming of warm weather the cadets spent a large part of their off time outdoors. Some took up rowing, and among the number were Sam and Tom. Larry Colby had become the owner of a fair-sized sloop, and he frequently took some of his chums out for a cruise up or down the lake.
"Do you know what I'd like to do?" said Dick one day. "I'd like to visit that old Sobber homestead and see how it looks."
"I've often thought of that," answered Sam. "Wonder how we can manage it?"
The matter was talked over in Larry's presence, and the cadet who owned the sloop said they might make the trip in that craft, provided the master of Putnam Hall would give them the desired permission.
"We'll ask Captain Putnam at once," declared Dick.
Permission was granted to leave Putnam Hall early on the following Saturday morning, provided the weather was clear, and it was arranged that the party should consist of the three Rover boys, Larry, Fred and Songbird. The captain said he preferred that they come back Saturday night, but they could remain away over Sunday if they found it necessary.
"Do you think we'll get any clew to Merrick and Tad Sobber?" asked Dick, with a faint smile.
"Possibly," answered Captain Putnam, smiling back. "You Rovers are great chaps for finding out things."
The sloop was provided with a tiny cuddy, or cabin, and in this the boys placed a small stock of provisions and also a shotgun and some fishing lines. They left the Hall after breakfast and were glad of the promise of a warm day, with the breeze in just the right direction.
"You fellows will have to tell me where to steer the sloop to," said Larry, after the mainsail had been run up. "I don't know where that old house is."
"We have a general idea where it is," answered Dick. "Of course we may have some trouble finding it. But if we get mixed up, we can go ashore and ask the folks living in that vicinity."
The distance to be covered along the lake shore was in the neighborhood of twelve miles, so the boys had quite a sail before them. They took turns at steering, and said they liked the sloop very much.
About four miles had been covered when the breeze began to die away. This was exasperating, but could not be helped, so the boys made the best of it. As the sloop drifted along they got out some fishing tackle, and it was not long before Sam brought up a fair-sized fish, of which he felt quite proud.
"At this rate it will take us till night to reach that old house," remarked Dick, after they had been fishing half an hour. "It is too bad! I thought we'd get there by noon when we started, even if the breeze did go down."
"Oh, I think the breeze will start up again before long," said Tom hopefully. "Let us enjoy this fishing while we have the chance," he added, having just pulled in a real piscatorial prize.
By noon they had a good mess of fish to their credit, and then Sam proposed that they go ashore and build a fire and cook some for dinner.
"There is no use of mourning over the wind," said he.
"If it wasn't for the sloop we might tramp to the old house," returned Dick.
"I shouldn't wish to leave my boat just anywhere," said Larry. "Somebody might run off with her,—and she cost quite some money."
"You might leave her in care of some farmer along here," suggested Songbird, and then he added softly: