Produced by Sean Pobuda

THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE

Or

Stirring Adventures in Africa

By Arthur M. Winfield

(Edward Stratemeyer)

INTRODUCTION

My dear boys:

This volume, "The Rover Boys in the jungle," is the third story of the "Rover Boys Series," and while a complete tale in itself, forms a companion story to "The Rover Boys at School" and "The Rover Boys on the Ocean," which preceded it.

In the former volumes I told you much of the doings of Dick, Tom, and Sam at Putnam Hall and during a remarkable chase on the Atlantic Ocean. In the present story the scene is shifted from the military academy, where the boys are cadets, to the wilds of Africa, whither the lads with their uncle have gone to look for Anderson Rover, the boys' father, who had disappeared many years before. A remarkable message from the sea causes the party to leave this country, and they journey to Africa, little dreaming of all the stirring adventures which await them in the heart of the Dark Continent. How they battle against their many perils, and what the outcome of their remarkable search is, I will leave for the pages that follow to explain.

In conclusion, let me state that I am extremely grateful for the kind favor given the previous volumes of this series, and I sincerely trust that the present tale merits a continuance of your support.

Affectionately and sincerely yours,

EDWARD STRATEMEYER
November 10, 1899

THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE

CHAPTER I

UNPLEASANT NEWS

"Back to Putnam Hall again, boys! Hurrah!"

"Yes, back again, Tom, and glad of it," returned Dick Rover. "I can tell you, the academy is getting to be a regular second home."

"Right you are, Dick," came from Sam Rover, the youngest of the three brothers. "I'd rather be here than up to the farm, even if Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha are kind and considerate. The farm is so slow—"

"While here we have our full share of adventures and more," finished Tom. "I wonder what will happen to us this term? The other terms kept us mighty busy, didn't they?"

"I'm not looking for any more outside adventures," said Dick, with a serious shake of his head. "Our enemies have been disposed of, and I don't want, to hear of or see them again."

"Nor I—but we'll hear of them, nevertheless, mark my words.
The Baxters won't leave us rest. They are a hard crowd, and Buddy
Girk is just as bad," finished Tom.

It was the opening of the spring term at Putnam Hall Military Academy, and the three Rover boys had just come up from Cedarville in the carryall, driven by Peleg Snuggers, the general-utility man of the place. Their old chums, Frank Harrington, Fred Garrison, Larry Colby, and a number of others, had already arrived, so the boys did not lack for company. As they entered the spacious building genial Captain Putnam greeted each with a hearty handshake, and a pleasant word also came to them from George Strong, the head assistant.

For the benefit of those who have not read the other books of this series, entitled "The Rover Boys at School" and "The Rover Boys on the Ocean," I would state that the Rover boys were three in number, Dick being the oldest, Tom next, and Sam the youngest, as already mentioned. Whether the boys were orphans or not was a question which could not be answered. Upon the death of their mother, their father, a rich mine owner and geological expert, had left the boys in the care of his brother, Randolph Rover, an eccentric gentleman who devoted his entire time to scientific farming. Mr. Anderson Rover had then journeyed to the western coast of Africa, hoping to locate some valuable gold mines in the heart of the Dark Continent. He had plunged into the interior with a number of natives, and that was the last heard of him, although Mr. Randolph Rover had made diligent inquiries concerning his whereabouts.

All of the boys were bright, fun-loving fellows, and to keep them out of mischief Randolph Rover had sent them off to Putnam Hall, a first class school, located some distance from Cedarville, a pretty town on Lake Cayuga, in New York State. Here the lads had made numerous friends and incidentally a number of enemies.

Of the friends several have already been named, and others will come to the front as our story proceeds. Of the enemies the principal ones were Arnold Baxter, a man who had tried, years before, to defraud the boys' father out of a gold mine in the West, and his son Dan, who had once been the bully of Putnam Hall. Arnold Baxter's tool was a good-for-nothing scamp named Buddy Girk, who had once robbed Dick of his watch. Both of these men were now in jail charged with an important robbery in Albany, and the Rover boys had aided in bringing the men to justice. Dan, the bully, was also under arrest, charged with the abduction of Dora Stanhope. Dora, who was Dick Rover's dearest friend, had been carried off by the directions of Josiah Crabtree, a former teacher of Putnam Hall, who wished to marry Mrs. Stanhope and thus get his hands on the money the widow held in trust for her daughter, but the abduction had been nipped in the bud and Josiah Crabtree had fled, leaving Dan Baxter to shoulder the blame of the transaction. How Dora was restored to her mother and what happened afterward, old readers already know.

A winter had passed since the events narrated above, and before and after the holidays the Rover boys had studied diligently, to make up for the time lost on that never-to-be-forgotten ocean chase. Their efforts had not been in vain, and each lad had been promoted to the next higher class, much to Randolph Rover's satisfaction and the joy of their tender-hearted Aunt Martha.

"The boys are all right, even if they do love to play pranks," was Randolph Rover's comment, when he heard of the promotions. "I trust they improve their time during the term to come."

"They are good boys, Randolph," returned Mr. Rover. "They would not be real boys if they did not cut up once in a while. As to their daring—why, they simply take after their father. Poor man. If only we knew, what had become of him."

"Yes, a great weight would be lifted from our shoulders, Martha, if we knew that. But we do not know, and there seems to be no way of finding out. I have written to the authorities at various places in Africa until I know not whom to address next."

"He must be dead, otherwise he would write or come home, Randolph.
He was not one to keep us in the dark so long."

"I cannot believe my brother dead, and the boys will not believe it either. Do you know what Dick said to me before he left for school? He said, that if we didn't get word he was going to Africa some day to hunt his father up."

"To Africa! What will that boy do in such a jungle, and among such fierce natives? He will be killed!"

"Perhaps not. The boy is uncommonly shrewd, when it comes to dealing with his enemies. Just look how nicely he and Tom and Sam served Arnold Baxter and those others. It was wonderful doings—for boys."

"Yes, but they may not be so successful always, Randolph. I should hate to see them run into any more, danger."

"So should I, my dear. But they will take care of themselves, I feel that more and more every day," concluded Randolph Rover; and there, for the time being, the subject was dropped.

"I wonder what has become of old Josiah Crabtree?" remarked Dick Rover, as he and his brothers walked around the parade ground to inspect several improvement which Captain Putnam had caused to be made.

"I'm sure I can't guess," answered Tom.

"Like as not he became scared to death. I suppose you'll be satisfied if he keeps away from Dora and her mother in the future?"

"Yes; I never want to set eyes on him again, Tom. He worried the widow half to death with his strange ways."

"I wonder how the Baxters feel to be locked up?" put in Sam. "I know Arnold Baxter is used to it, but it's a new experience for Dan."

"Dan is as bad as his father," broke in Larry Colby, who had joined the brothers. "I was glad to hear that Mumps had turned over a new leaf and cut the bully dead."

"Oh, so were all of us!" said Tom. "By the way, do you know where Mumps is now? In the mining business, out West, acting as some sort of a clerk."

"A spell in the West will take the nonsense out of him," came from Dick. "It was a great pity he ever got under Dan Baxter's influence I wonder how Arnold Baxter is getting along? He was quite severely wounded, you know, during that tussle on the yachts."

"He's about over that, so Frank Harrington says," replied Larry. "I'll wager he is mighty bitter against you fellows for having put him where he is."

"It was his own, fault, Larry. If a person is going to do wrong he must take the consequences. Mr. Baxter might today be a fairly well-to-do mine owner of the West and Dan might be a leading cadet here. But instead they both threw themselves away—and now they must take what comes."

"My father used to say it took all kind of people to make a world," went on Larry. "But I reckon we could do without the Baxter and the Buddy Girk kind."

"And the Josiah Crabtree kind," added Sam. "Don't forget that miserable sneak."

"Perhaps Crabtree has reformed, like Mumps."

"It wasn't in him to reform, Larry," came from Tom. "Oh, how I detested him, with his slick, oily tongue! I wish they had caught him and placed him where he deserved to be, with the Baxters."

"Yes, and then we could—" began Sam, when he stopped. "Hullo,
Frank, what are, you running so fast about?" he cried.

"Just got a letter from my father!" burst out Frank Harrington, as he came up out of breath. "I knew you would want to hear the news. Dan Baxter has escaped from jail and the authorities don't know where to look for him."

CHAPTER II

NEWCOMERS AT THE ACADEMY

"Dan Baxter has escaped!" repeated Dick. "That is news indeed.
Does your father give my particulars?"

"He says it is reported that the jailer was sick and unable to stop Dan."

"Humph! Then they must have had some sort of a row," put in Tom. "Well, it does beat the nation how the Baxters do it. Don't you remember how Arnold Baxter escaped from the hospital authorities last year?"

"Those Baxters are as slick as you can make them," said Frank.
"I've been thinking if Dan would dare to show himself around
Putnam Hall."

"Not he!" cried Larry. "He'll travel as far can and as fast as he can."

"Perhaps not," mused Dick. "I rather he will hang around and try to help his father out of prison."

"That won't help him, for the authorities will be on strict guard now. You know the stable door is always locked after the horse is stolen."

At this there was a general laugh, and when it ended a loud roll of a drum made the young cadets hurry to the front of the parade ground.

"Fall in, Companies A and B!" came the command from the major of the battalion, and the boys fell in. Dick was now a first lieutenant, while Tom and Sam were first and second sergeants respectively.

As soon as the companies were formed they were marched around the Hall and to the messroom. Here they were kept standing in a long fine while George Strong came to the front with half a dozen new pupils.

"Young gentlemen, I will introduce to you several who will join your ranks for this season," said the head assistant. Then he began to name the half dozen. Among others they included a round-faced German youth named Hans Mueller, and a tall, lank, red-haired boy, of Irish descent who rejoiced in the name of Jim Caven.

"I'll wager the Dutch boy is full of fun," whispered Sam to Tom.
"You can see it in his eyes."

"I don't like the looks of that Jim Caven," returned Tom. "He looks like a worse sneak than Mumps ever was."

"I agree there. Perhaps we had better keep, our eyes open for him."

Despite this talk, however, the newcomers were welcomed cordially, and to the credit of the students be it said that each old cadet did all in his power to make the new boys feel perfectly at home.

"Mine fadder vos von soldier py der Cherman army," said Hans Mueller. "Dot's vy he sent me py a military academy ven we come py dis country."

"Glad to know you intend to help us fight the Indians," answered
Tom innocently.

"Me fight der Indians? Vot you means py dot?" demanded Hans, his light-blue eyes wide open with interest.

"Why, don't you know that we are here to learn how to fight
Indians?" went on Tom, with a side wink at those around him.

"No; I dink me dis vos von school only."

"So it is—a school to learn how to shoot and scalp."

"Schalp! Vot's dot?"

"Cut an Indian's top-knot off with a knife, this way," and Tom made an imaginary slash at Hans' golden locks.

"Ton't do dot!" stammered the German boy, falling back. "No, I ton't vant to learn to schalp, noputty."

"But you are willing to fight the Indians, are you not?" put in
Sam. "We are all going to do that, you know."

"I ton't like dem Indians," sighed Hans. "I see me some of dem vonde by a show in Chermany, und I vos afraid."

At this a laugh went up. How much further the joke would have been carried it is impossible to say, but just then a bell rang and the boys had to go into the classroom. But Tom remembered about the Indians, as the others found out about a week later.

As the majority of the scholars had been to the Hall before, it did not take long for matters to become settled, and in a few days all of the boys felt thoroughly at home, that is, all but Jim Caven, who went around with that same sneaking look on his face that Tom had first noticed. He made but few friends, and those only among the smaller boys who had plenty of pocket money to spend. Caven rarely showed any money of his own.

With the coming of spring the cadets formed, as of old, several football teams, and played several notches, including one with their old rivals, the pupils of Pornell Academy. This game they lost, by a score of four to five, which made the Pornellites feel much better, they having lost every game in the past. (For the doings of the Putnam Hall students previous to the arrival at that institution of the Rover boys see, "The Putnam Hall Series," the first volume of which is entitled, "The Putnam Hall Cadets."—Publisher)

"Well, we can't expect to beat always," said Tom, who played quarterback on the Putnam team. "We gave them a close brush."

"Yes, and we might have won if Larry hadn't slipped and sprained his ankle," put in Sam. "Well, never mind; better luck next time. We'll play them again next fall." Sam was right so far as a game between the rival academies was concerned, but none of the Rover boys were on hand to take part in the contest—for reasons which the chapter to follow will disclose.

With the football came kite-flying, and wonderful indeed were some of the kites which the boys manufactured.

"I can tell you, if a fellow had time he could reduce kite-flying to a regular science," said Dick.

"Oh, Dick, don't give us any more science!" cried Sam. "We get enough of science from, Uncle Randolph, with his scientific farming, fowl-raising, and the like. I would just as lief fly an old-fashioned kite as anything."

"Dick is right, though," put in Fred Garrison. "Now you have a big flat-kite there, three times larger than mine. Yet I'll wager my little box kite will fly higher than your kite."

"Done!" cried Sam. "What shall the wager be?"

"Ice cream for the boys of our dormitory," answered Fred.

"All right, but how is a fellow to get the cream if he loses?"

"That's for him to find out, Sam. If I lose I'll sneak off to
Cedarville, as Dick did once, and buy what I need."

"Ice cream for our room it is," said. Frank.

"And mum's the word about the wager, or Captain Putnam will spoil the whole affair if he gets wind of it."

"Make me stakeholder," grinned Tom. "I'd just like to lay hands on about two quarts of chocolate cream."

"There won't be any stakeholder," said Dick.

"But when is this kite-flying contest to come off?"

The matter was talked over, and it was decided to wait until the next Saturday, which would be, as usual, a half-holiday. In the meantime some of the other boys heard there was going to be a contest, although they knew nothing of the wager made, and half a dozen other matches were arranged.

Saturday proved to be cool and clear with a stiff breeze blowing directly from the west. This being so, it was decided, in order to get clear of the woods in front of the Hall, to hold the contests on Baker's Plain, a level patch of ground some distance to the westward.

The cadets were soon on the way, shouting and laughing merrily over the sport promised. Only a few remained behind, including Jim Caven, who gave as his excuse that he had a headache.

"I'm glad he is not with us," said Dick. "I declare, for some reason, I can't bear to have him around."

"Nor I," returned Frank. "It's queer, but he gives me the shivers whenever he comes near me."

"It's a wonder he came here at all. He doesn't belong in our style of a crowd."

To reach Baker's Plain the cadets had to make a detour around a high cliff which overlooked a rocky watercourse which flowed into Cayuga Lake. They moved slowly, as nobody wished to damage his kite, and it was after two o'clock before all hands were ready for the first trial at kite-flying.

"Gracious, but it is blowing!" cried Tom.

"Sam, have you a good strong cord on your kite?"

"The strongest I could get," answered the youngest Rover. "I guess it is stronger than what Fred has."

"My kite won't pull like yours," said Fred Garrison. "All ready?"

"Yes."

"Then up they go—and may the best kite win!"

Soon a dozen kites of various kinds were soaring in the air, some quite steadily and others darting angrily from side to side. One went up with a swoop, to come down with a bang on the rocks, thus knocking itself into a hundred pieces.

"Mine cracious, look at dot!" burst out Hans Mueller. "Mine Gretchen kite vos busted up—und I spent me feefteen cents on him alreety!" and a roar went up.

"Never mind, Hans," said Dick. "You can help sail the Katydid.
She will pull strong enough for two, I am sure."

The Katydid was a wonderful affair of silver and gold which Dick had constructed on ideas entirely his own. It went up slowly but surely and proved to be as good a kite as the majority.

A number of girls living in the neighborhood, bad heard of the kite-flying contests, and now they came up, Dora Stanhope with the rest, accompanied by her two cousins, Grace and Nellie Laning. As my old readers may guess, Dick was very attentive to Dora, and his brothers were scarcely less so to the two Laning sisters.

"And how is your mother?" Dick asked of Dora, during the course of their conversation.

"She is much better," replied Dora, "although she is still weak from her sickness."

"Does she ever mention Josiah Crabtree?"

"She mentioned him once. She said that she had dreamed of him and of you, Nick."

"Me? And what was the dream?"

"Oh—it was only a silly affair, Dick, not worth mentioning."

"But I would like to know what it was."

"Well, then, she dreamed that both of you were in a big forest and he was about to attack you with a gun or a club, she couldn't tell which. She awoke screaming and I ran to her side, and that is how she told me of the dream."

CHAPTER III

AN OLD ENEMY TURNS UP

"That was certainly an odd dream," said Dick, after a short pause. "I am sure I never want to meet Josiah Crabtree under such circumstances."

"It was silly, Dick—I'd forget it if I was you."

"And she never mentioned the man at any other time?"

"No. But I am certain she is glad he has left for parts unknown.
I never, never, want to see him again," and the girl shivered.

"Don't be alarmed, Dora; I don't think he will dare to show himself," answered Dick, and on the sly gave her hand a tight squeeze. They were warmer friends than ever since Dick had rescued her from those who had abducted her.

The kite-flying was now in "full blast," as Sam expressed it, and the boys had all they could do to keep the various lines from becoming tangled up. His own kite and Fred's were side by side and for a long time it looked as if neither would mount above the other.

"Run her up, Fred! You can win if you try!" cried several of the cadets.

"Play out a bit more, Sam; you haven't given your kite all the slack she wants," said others. So the talk ran on, while each contestant did the best to make his kite mount higher. In the meantime the wind kept increasing in violence, making each kite pull harder than ever.

"It's a dandy for flying," panted Tom, who was holding his kite with all the strength he possessed. "Something must give way soon," and something did give way. It was the string he was holding, and as it snapped he went over on his back in such a comical fashion that all, even to the girls, had to laugh.

"Torn! Tom! What a sight!" burst out Nellie Laning. "You should have brought a stronger cord."

"If I had I'd a-gone up in the clouds," answered Tom ruefully.
"That's the last of that kite, I suppose; if I—"

"The string has caught on Sam's kite!" interrupted Grace Laning.
"Oh, my! See both of them going up!"

"Now you can win, Sam!" laughed Dora. "Fred, your flying is nowhere now."

"He didn't calculate to fly one kite against two," answered Fred. "Hold on, Sam, where are you going? The cliff is over in that direction!" he yelled suddenly.

"I—I know it!" came back the alarming answer. "But I can't stop myself!"

"He can't stop himself!" repeated Dora.

"Oh, stop him somebody, before he goes over the cliff!"

"Let go of the line!" shouted Dick. "Don't go any closer to the cliff!"

"I—I can't let go! The line is fast around my wrist!" gasped poor Sam. "Oh, dear, it's cutting me like a knife!"

"He's in a mess," came from Frank. "If he isn't careful he'll go over the cliff, as sure as he's born!"

"Throw yourself down!" went on Dick, and, leaving his kite in Hans
Mueller's care, he ran after his brother.

By this time Sam had gained a few bushes which grew but a dozen feet away from the edge of the cliff, that at this point was nearly forty feet in height. With his right hand held a painful prisoner, he clutched at the bushes with his left.

"I've got the bushes, but I can't hold on long!" he panted, as
Dick came close. "Help me, quick!"

Scarcely had the words left his mouth when the bushes came up by the roots and poor Sam fell over on his side. Then came another strong puff of wind, and he was dragged to the very edge of the rocky ledge!

"I'm going!" he screamed, when, making a mighty leap, Dick caught him by the foot.

"Catch the rock—anything!" cried the older brother. "If you don't you'll be killed!"

"Save me!" was all poor Sam could say. "Oh, Dick, don't let me go over!"

"I'll do my best, Sam," was Dick's answer, and he held on like grim death.

By this time half a dozen boys were running to the scene. Dora Stanhope followed, and as she came up she pulled a tiny penknife from her pocket.

"Can't I cut the line with this?" she asked, timidly, as she pushed her way to Dick's side.

"Yes, Yes; cut it!" moaned Sam. "Oh, my wrist is almost cut in two!"

Stooping low, Dora sawed away at the kite line, which was as taut as a string on a bass fiddle. Suddenly there was a loud snap and the cord parted. Sam and Dick fell back from the edge of the cliff, while the entangled kites soared away for parts unknown.

"Thank Heaven you cut the line, Dora!" said Dick, who was the first to recover from the excitement of the situation. He saw that Dora was trembling like a leaf, and he hastened to her support, but she pushed him away and pointed to Sam.

"Don't mind me—I am all right, Dick," she said. "Go care for poor Sam. See how his wrist is bleeding! Oh, how dreadful!"

"Here is my handkerchief; he had better bind it up with that," said Grace Laning, as she offered the article.

"We'll wash the wound first," put in Frank, and raced off for some water. Soon he returned with his stiff hat full, and the cut on Sam's wrist was tenderly washed by the Laning girls, who then bound it up with the skill of a hospital surgeon.

The kite-flying continued for the balance of the afternoon. But Sam and Dick had had enough of it, and, along with Tom, they took a stroll along the lake front with Dora Stanhope and Grace and Nellie. Of course both boys and girls talked a whole lot of nonsense, yet all enjoyed the walk very much.

"This is the spot where they abducted me," shivered Dora, as they came to the old boathouse. "Oh, what a dreadful time that was, to be sure!"

"I don't believe our enemies will bother you any more, Dora," said Dick. "It's not likely that old Crabtree Will try the same game twice; and Mumps has really turned over a new leaf and gone to work for a living."

"Yes, I was glad to hear that, for I don't believe he was such a bad fellow at heart. He was under Dan Baxter's influence, just as—as—"

"As Josiah Crabtree tried to influence your mother," whispered Dick, and Dora nodded slowly. "Well, let us forget it, and—My gracious!"

Dick stopped short, to stare in open-mouthed wonder at a small boat shooting down the lake at a distance of several hundred yards from the shore.

"What's up?" came simultaneously from Tom and Sam.

"Don't you see that fellow in the boat?" demanded Dick, in increased wonder.

"Of course we see him," answered Tom.

"Don't you recognize him?"

"No; he's too far off," came from Sam..

"It's Dan Baxter!"

"Baxter!" cried Dora. "Oh, Dick!"

"Nonsense!" said Tom. "How could he be am here?"

"It does look a little like Baxter," was Sam's slow comment. "Yet it seems impossible that he could be here, as Tom says."

"I say it's Baxter," affirmed Dick stoutly, "I'll hail him and make sure."

"Oh, don't bring him over here!" interposed Dora, becoming alarmed.

"Don't be alarmed—he shan't hurt anybody, Dora." Dick raised his voice. "Hi there, Baxter! What are you doing here?"

At first there was no reply, and the boy in the rowboat kept on pulling. But as Dick repeated his call, the rower threw up his oars.

"You mind your own business," he growled. "Guess I can row on the lake if I want to."

"It is Baxter, sure enough!" ejaculated Tom.

"The rascal! We ought to recapture him."

"That's the talk," added Sam. "I wish my wrist wasn't so sore—I'd go after him."

"There's a boat below here," said Dick.

"Let's put out in that."

"He may—may shoot at you," faltered Dora. "You know how wicked he can be at times."

"Indeed I do know," answered Dick. "But he ought to be handed over to the authorities. It is a crime to let him go free."

"Hi, Baxter. Come over here; we want to talk to you!" yelled Tom.

"Not much!" growled the former bully of Putnam Hall.

"You had better come," said Sam. "If you don't come we'll bring you."

"Hush, Sam, or you'll make a mess of things!" cried Dick softly, but the warning came too late.

"Will you bring me back?" roared the bully. "Just try it on and see how I'll fix you."

"Come on for the boat," said Tom. "We'll show him he can't scare us."

He started off and Dick came after him. Sam was also about to follow, when his elder brother stopped him.

"You can't do much with that sore wrist, Sam," he said. "Better stay with the girls until we come back. You can watch events from the shore, and run for assistance, if it's necessary."

Sam demurred at first, but soon saw the wisdom of Dick's reasoning and consented to remain behind.

By this time Tom had shoved out the rowboat Dick had mentioned—a neat craft belonging to a farmer living near. A pair of oars lay in a locker on the lake bank; and, securing these, Tom leaped on board of the craft, and soon Dick came after.

Dan Baxter had watched their movement with interest, which speedily gave way to arm when he saw the other boat come out, and beheld Dick and Tom each take up an oar and begin to pull for all they could.

"I was a clam to come up here, when there is no real need for it," he muttered. "Two to one, eh? Well, I reckon I can put up a pretty stiff fight if it comes to the worst." Then he caught up his oars once more, and began to row down Cayuga Lake with all possible speed.

CHAPTER IV

THE CHASE ON THE LAKE

"He means to give us as much of a chase as possible," remarked
Tom, as he glanced over his shoulder. "If I remember rightly,
Baxter was always a pretty fair oarsman."

"Yes, that was the one thing he could do well," returned Dick.
"But we ought to be able to catch him, Tom."

"We could if we had two pairs of oars. One pair can do just about so much and no more."

"Nonsense! Now, both together, and put all your muscle into it," and Dick set a stiff stroke that his brother followed with difficulty.

Baxter had been rowing down the lake, but as soon as he saw that he was being pursued he changed his course for the east shore. He was settled to his work, and for several minutes it was hard to tell whether he was holding his own or losing.

"Hurrah! we are catching up!" cried Dick, after pulling for five minutes. "Keep at it, Tom, and we'll have him before he is half over."

"Gosh, but it's hot work!" came with a pant from Tom Rover. "He must be almost exhausted to row like that."

"He knows what he has at stake. He sees the prison cell staring him in the face again. You'd do your best, too, if you were in his place."

"I'm doing my best now, Dick. On we go!" and Tom renewed his exertions. Dick set a faster stroke than ever, having caught his second wind, and the rowboat flew over the calm surface of the lake like a thing of life.

"Keep off!" The cry came from Baxter, while he was still a hundred yards from the eastern shore. "Keep off, or it will be the worse for you!"

"We are not afraid of you, Baxter, and you ought to know it by this time," answered Dick. "You may as well give in now as later on."

"Give in! You must be crazy!"

"We are two to one, and you know what we have been able to do in the past."

"Humph! I don't intend to go to jug again, and that is all there is to it."

"Maybe you can't help yourself."

"We'll see about that. Are you—going to keep off or not?

"Don't ask foolish a question."

"You won't keep off?"

"No."

"If you don't I—I'll shoot you."

As Dan Baxter spoke he stopped rowing and brought from a hip pocket a highly polished nickel-plated revolver.

"Do you see this?" he demanded, as he pointed the weapon toward the Rover boys.

Both Dick and Tom were taken aback at the sight of the weapon. But they had seen such arms before, and had faced them, consequently they were not as greatly alarmed as they right otherwise have been. They knew, too, that Dan Baxter was a notoriously bad shot.

"Put that up, Baxter," said Dick calmly. "It may only get you into deeper trouble."

"I don't care!" said the bully recklessly. "I'm not going back to jail and that is all there, is to it!"

"You won't dare to shoot at us, and you know it," put in Tom, as the two boats drifted closer together.

"I will, and don't you fool yourself on it."

"Drop those oars or I'll fire, as sure as my name is Dan Baxter," and the revolver, which had been partly lowered, was raised a second time.

It must be confessed that Dick and Tom were much disconcerted. The two rowboats were now less than fifty feet apart, and any kind of a shot from the weapon was likely to prove more or less dangerous. Baxter's eyes gleamed with the hatred of an angry snake ready to strike.

"You think you are smart, you Rover boys," said the bully, after an awkward pause all around. "You think you did a big thing in rescuing Dora Stanhope and in putting me and my father and Buddy Girk in prison. But let me tell you that this game hasn't come to an end yet, and some day we intend to square accounts."

"There is no use in wasting breath in this fashion, Baxter," returned Dick, as calmly as he could. "We are two to one, and the best thing to do is for you to submit. If you fire on us, we may do a little shooting on our own account."

"Humph! Do you imagine you can scare me in that fashion? You haven't any pistol, and I know it. If you had you would have drawn the weapon long ago."

At this Dick bit his lip. "Don't be too sure," he said steadily, as the boats drifted still closer together. "The minute I heard you had escaped from jail I went and bought a pistol in Cedarville." This was the strict truth, but Dick did not add that the weapon lay at that moment safe in the bottom of his trunk at the Hall.

"Got afraid I'd come around, eh?"

"I knew there was nothing like becoming prepared. Now will you—"

Dick did not have time to finish, for, lowering the front end of the pistol, Dan Baxter pulled the trigger twice and two reports rang out in quick succession. One bullet buried itself in the seat beside Tom, while the second plowed its way through the bottom, near the stern.

"You villain!" cried Dick, and in his excitement hurled his oar at Dan Baxter, hitting the fellow across the fact with such force that the bully's nose began to bleed. The shock made Baxter lose his hold on the pistol and it went over the side of his craft and sank immediately to the bottom of the lake.

"My, but that was a close shave!" muttered Tom, as he gazed at the hole through the seat. "A little closer and I would have got it in the stomach."

A yell now came from Sam, and a shriek from the girls, all of whom had heard the pistol shots. They were too far away to see the result of the shooting and feared both Tom and Dick had been killed or wounded.

As quickly as he could recover from the blow of the oar, Dan Baxter picked up his own blades, and without paying attention to the blood which was flowing from his nose, began once again to pull for the shore.

"Come on, his pistol is gone!" shouted Dick, and then his face fell. "Confound it, I've thrown away my oar! There it goes!" And he pointed some distance to their left.

"That isn't the worst of it!" groaned Tom. "Look at that hole in the bottom, made by that pistol shot. The water is coming in just as fast as it can."

There was small need to call attention to it, for the water in the bottom of the boat was already an inch deep. Dick started in perplexity, then, struck by a sudden idea, drew a lead pencil from his pocket and rammed it into the opening. It fitted very well, and the water ceased, to come in.

"Now we'll have to bail out and pick up that other oar," said Tom.
"It was foolish to throw it away, Dick."

"I don't know about that. It deprived Baxter of his pistol. Paddle over, and I'll pick it up." Tom did so, and the blade was speedily recovered.

But Dan Baxter had made good use of the precious moments lost by the Rover boys, and hardly were the latter into shape for rowing once more than they saw the bully beach his craft and leap out on the shore. "Good-by to you!" he cried mockingly. "I told you that you couldn't catch me. The next time we meet I'll make you sorry that you ever followed me," and he started to run off with all possible speed.

Tom and Dick were too chagrined to answer him, and pulled forward to the shore in silence. They ran the craft into some bushes and tied up, and then started after Baxter, who was now making for the woods south of the village of Nelson.

When the highway skirting this portion of Cayuga Lake was gained Dan Baxter was a good five hundred feet ahead of them. A turn in the road soon hid him from view. Gaining the bend they discovered that he had disappeared from view altogether.

"He has taken to the woods," sighed Dick.

"If that is so we may as well give the hunt up," answered his brother. "It would be worse than looking for a pin in a haystack, for we wouldn't know what direction he had taken."

"I wish I had a bloodhound with which to trail him. He ought to be run down, Tom."

"Well, let us notify some of the people living near and see what can be done."

They ran on to the spot where they supposed Baxter had left the highway. On both sides were dense thickets of cedars with heavy underbrush. All in all, the locality formed an ideal hiding place.

Night was coming on by the time they gained the nearest farmhouse.
Here they found three men, to whom they explained the situation.
All of the men smiled grimly.

"If he went into the woods it would be a hard job to trail him," was the comment from Farmer Mason. "If he ain't careful he'll lose himself so completely he'll never git out, b'gosh!"

"Well, I don't know but what that would suit me," responded Tom dryly.

The search was begun, and several others joined in. It lasted until night was fairly upon the party and was then given up in disgust.

"It's no use," said Dick. "He has slipped us!"

"But we ought to notify the authorities," said Tom. "They will probably put a detective on his track."

"Yes; but a detective can't do any more than we can, up in this wild locality."

"He won't remain in the woods forever. He'll starve to death."

"Well, we can send the police a telegram from Cedarville."

This was done, and the Rover boys returned to Putnam Hall by way of the side road leaving past the homes of the Stanhopes and the Lanings. They found Sam and the girls very anxious concerning their welfare.

"We were afraid you had been shot," said Dora. "I am thankful that you escaped."

"So am I," put in Sam. "But it's too bad that Baxter got away. I wonder where he will turn up next."

They all wondered, but could not even venture an answer. Soon the boys left the girls and hurried to the academy, where their story, had to be told over again. Captain Putnam looked exceedingly grave over the narrative.

"You must be careful in the future, lads," he said. "Remember, you are in my care here. I do not know what your uncle would say if anything should happen to you."

"We will be on our guard in the future," answered Dick. "But I am awfully sorry we didn't catch him."

"So am I. But perhaps the authorities will have better luck," and there the talk came to an end, and the boys retired for the night.

CHAPTER V

FUN AND AN EXPLOSION

Several days slipped by, and the boys waited anxiously for some news from the authorities. But none came, and they rightfully surmised that, for the time being, Dan Baxter had made good his escape.

On account of the disastrous ending to the kite-flying match, many had supposed that the feast in Dormitory No. 6 was not to come off, but Sam, Tom, Frank, and several others got their heads together and prepared for a "layout" for the following Wednesday, which would be Dick's birthday.

"We'll give him a surprise," said Sam, and so it was agreed. Passing around the hat netted exactly three dollars and a quarter, and Tom, Sam, and Fred Garrison were delegated to purchase the candies, cake, and ice cream which were to constitute the spread.

"We'll do the thing up brown," said Sam.

"We must strike higher than that feast we had, last year."

"Right you are!" came from Tom, "Oh dear, do you remember how we served Mumps that night!" and he set up a roar over the remembrance of the scene.

Hans Mueller had become one of the occupants of the dormitory, and he was as much, interested as anybody in the preparations for the spread. "Dot vill pe fine!" he said. "I like to have von feast twist a veek, ha I ha!

"He's a jolly dog," said Tom to Frank.

"But, say, I've been thinking of having some fun with him before this spread comes off."

"Let me in on the ground floor," pleaded Frank, who always wok a great interest in Tom's jokes.

"I will, on one condition, Frank."

"And what is that?"

"That you loan me that masquerade suit you have in your trunk.
The one you used at that New Year's dance at home."

"You mean that Indian rig?"

"Yes."

"Hullo, I reckon I smell a mouse!" laughed the senator's son. "I heard you giving Hans that yarn about us training to fight Indians."'

"Did you indeed."

"I did indeed; and I heard Hans say that he wanted nothing to do with the Indians."

"Well, he's going to have something to do with at least one
Indian," grinned Tom. "What do you say I get the suit?"

"Yes; if you'll fix it so that I can see the sport."

"All of the crowd can see it, if they don't leak about it," returned the fun-loving Rover.

Tom soon had the masquerade suit in his possession and also, some
face paints which Frank had saved from the New Year's dance mentioned.
Shortly afterward Tom joined the crowd in the gymnasium, where
Hans Mueller was trying to do some vaulting over the bars.

"I dink I could chump dem sticks of I vos taller," the German youth was saying.

"Or the sticks were lower," replied Tom, with a wink at the crowd. "That's right, Hans, you had better learn how to jump now, and to run, too."

"The Indians have come," put in Frank.

"Indians?" repeated Hans Mueller. "Vere is da?"