Produced by W. R. Marvin
The Rover Boys on the River
The Search for the Missing Houseboat
By
Arthur Winfield
CONTENTS
I. Plans for an Outing
II. On the way to Putnam Hall
III. The Doings of a Night
IV. What the Morning Brought Forth
V. For and Against
VI. Link Smith's Confession
VII. Fun on the Campus
VIII. Good-bye to Putnam Hall
IX. The Rover Boys at Home
X. A Scene in a Cemetery
XI. Attacked from Behind
XII. Flapp and Baxter Plot Mischief
XIII. Chips and the Circus Bills
XIV. Fun at the Show
XV. Acts Not on the Bills
XVI. Aleck Brings News
XVII. A Queer Captain
XVIII. On Board the Houseboat
XIX. Words and Blows
XX. Days of Pleasure
XXI. The Disappearance of the Houseboat
XXII. Dan Baxter's Little Game
XXIII. A Run in the Dark
XXIV. The Horse Thieves
XXV. Plotting Against Dora and Nellie
XXVI. The Search on the River
XXVII. Caught Once More
XXVIII. A Message for the Rovers
XXIX. Jake Shaggam, of Shaggam Creek
XXX. The Rescue—Conclusion
INTRODUCTION
My dear boys: "The Rover Boys on the River" is a complete story in itself, but forms the ninth volume of "The Rover Boys Series for Young Americans."
Nine volumes! What a great number of tales to write about one set of characters! When I started the series I had in mind, as I have mentioned before, to write three, or possibly, four books. But the gratifying reception given to "The Rover Boys at School," soon made the publishers call for the second, third, and fourth volumes, and then came the others, and still the boys and girls do not seem to be satisfied. I am told there is a constant cry for "more! more!" and so I present this new Rover Boys story, which tells of the doings of Dick, Tom, and Sam and their friends during an outing on one of our great rivers,—an outing full of excitement and fun and with a touch of a rather unusual mystery. During the course of the tale some of the old enemies of the Rover Boys turn up, but our heroes know, as of old, how to take care of themselves; and all ends well.
In placing this book into the hands of my young readers I wish once more to thank them for the cordial reception given the previous volumes. Many have written to me personally about them, and I have perused the letters with much satisfaction. I sincerely trust the present volume fulfills their every expectation.
Affectionately and sincerely yours,
ARTHUR M. WINFIELD.
THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER
CHAPTER I
PLANS FOR AN OUTING
"Whoop! hurrah! Zip, boom, ah! Rockets!"
"For gracious' sake, Tom, what's all the racket about? I thought we had all the noise we wanted last night, when we broke up camp."
"It's news, Dick, glorious news," returned Tom Rover, and he began to dance a jig on the tent flooring. "It's the best ever."
"It won't be glorious news if you bring this tent down on our heads," answered Dick Rover. "Have you discovered a gold mine?"
"Better than that, Dick. I've discovered what we are going to do with ourselves this summer."
"I thought we were going back to the farm, to rest up, now that the term at Putnam Hall is at an end."
"Pooh! Who wants to rest? I've rested all I wish right in this encampment."
"Well, what's the plan? Don't keep us in 'suspenders,' as Hans Mueller would say."
"Dear old Hansy! That Dutch boy is my heart's own!" cried Tom, enthusiastically. "I could not live without him. He must go along."
"Go along where?"
"On our outing this summer?"
"But where do you propose to go to, Tom?"
"For a trip on the broad and glorious Ohio River."
"Eh?"
"That's it, Dick. We are to sail the briny deep of that river in a houseboat. Now, what do you think of that?"
"I'd like to know what put that into your head, Tom," came from the tent opening, and Sam Rover, the youngest of the three brothers, stepped into view.
"Uncle Randolph put it into my head, not over half an hour ago, Sam.
It's this way: You've heard of John V. Black of Jackville?"
"The man that owed Uncle Randolph some money?"
"Exactly. Well, Black is a bankrupt, or next door to it. He couldn't pay Uncle Randolph what was coming to him, so he turned over a houseboat instead. She's a beauty, so I am told, and she is called the Dora—"
"After Dora Stanhope, of course," interrupted the youngest Rover, with a quizzical look at his big brother Dick.
"Now look here, don't you start in like that, Sam," came quickly from Dick, with a blush, for the girl mentioned was his dearest friend and had been for some years. "Tell us about this houseboat, Tom," he went on.
"The houseboat is now located on the Ohio River, at a place not many miles from Pittsburg. Uncle Randolph says if we wish to we can use her this summer, and float down to the Mississippi and further yet for that matter. And we can take along half a dozen of our friends, too."
"Hurrah! that's splendid!" burst out Sam. "What a glorious way to spend the best part of this summer! Let us go, and each take a chum along."
"Father says if we go we can take Alexander Pop along to do the cooking and dirty work. The houseboat is now in charge of an old river-man named Captain Starr, who knows the Ohio and Mississippi from end to end, and we can keep him on board."
"It certainly looks inviting," mused Dick Rover. "It would take us through a section of the country we haven't as yet seen, and we might have lots of sport, fishing, and swimming, and maybe hunting. How many will the houseboat accommodate?" he added.
"Twelve or fourteen, on a pinch."
"Then we could have a jolly crowd. The question is, who are you going to take along? We can't take all of our friends, and it would seem a shame to ask some and not others."
"We can decide that question later, Dick. Remember, some of the fellows already have their arrangements made for this summer."
"I know Major Colby can't go," said Sam. "He is going to visit some relatives in Maine."
"And George Granbury is going up to the Thousand Islands with his folks," put in Tom.
"We might ask Songbird Powell," came from Dick. "I don't believe he is going anywhere in particular."
"Yes, we ought to have him by all means, and Hans Mueller, too. They would be the life of the party."
"I should like to have Fred Garrison along," said Sam. "He is always good company. We can—"
Sam broke off short as the roll of a drum was heard on the parade ground outside the tent.
"Dress parade, for the last time!" cried Dick Rover. "Come, get out and be quick about it!" And as captain of Company A he caught up his sword and buckled it on in a hurry, while Tom, as a lieutenant of the same command, did likewise.
When they came out on the parade ground of the encampment they found the cadets of Putnam Hall hurrying to the spot from all directions. It was a perfect day, this fifth of July, with the sun shining brightly and a gentle breeze blowing. The camp was as clean as a whistle, and from the tall flagstaff in front of the grounds Old Glory flapped bravely out on the air.
To those who have read "The Rover Boys at School," and other volumes in this series, Dick, Tom, and Sam need no special introduction. When at home they lived with their father and their aunt and uncle at Valley Brook farm, pleasantly located in the heart of New York State. From this farm they had been sent by their uncle Randolph to Putnam Hall military academy, presided over by Captain Victor Putnam, to whom they became warmly attached. At the academy they made many firm friends, some of whom will be introduced in the pages which follow, and also several enemies, among them Dan Baxter, the offspring of a criminal named Arnold Baxter, who, after suffering for his crimes by various terms of imprisonment, was now very sick and inclined to turn over a new leaf and become a better man.
A term at school had been followed by a remarkable chase on the ocean, and then a journey to the jungles of Africa, in a hunt after Anderson Rover, the boys' father, who was missing. Then had come a trip to a gold mine in the West, followed by some exciting adventures on the Great Lakes. On an island in one of the lakes they unearthed a document relating to a treasure hidden in the Adirondack Mountains, and next made their way to that locality, in midwinter, and obtained a box containing gold, silver, and precious stones, much to their satisfaction.
After their outing in the mountains, the boys had expected to return to Putnam Hall, but a scarlet-fever scare broke out and the institution was promptly closed. This being the case, Mr. Rover thought it best to allow his sons to visit California for their health. This they did, and in the seventh volume of the series, entitled "The Rover Boys on Land and Sea," I related how Sam, Tom, and Dick were carried off to sea during a violent storm, in company with Dora Stanhope, already mentioned, and her two cousins, Nellie and Grace Laning, two particular friends of Tom and Sam. The whole party was cast away on a deserted island, and had much trouble with Dan Baxter, who joined some sailor mutineers. Our friends were finally rescued by a United States warship which chanced to pass that way and see their signal of distress.
After reaching San Francisco once more, the Rover boys had returned to the East, while Dora Stanhope and the Lanings had gone to Santa Barbara, where Mrs. Stanhope was stopping for her health. The scare at Putnam Hall was now over, and in another volume of the series, called "The Rover Boys in Camp," I related how Dick, Tom, and Sam returned to the military academy again, and took part in the annual encampment. Here there had been no end of good times and not a little hazing, the most of which was taken in good part. The boys had made a new enemy in the shape of a bully named Lew Flapp, who was finally expelled from the school for his wrong-doings. Dan Baxter also turned up, but when the authorities got after him he disappeared as quickly as he had done many times before, leaving his father to his fate, as already mentioned.
"I don't think we'll be bothered much with Dan Baxter after this," Tom had said, but he was mistaken, as later events proved.
Rat, tat, tat! Rat, tat, tat! went the drum on the parade ground, and soon the three companies which comprised the Putnam Hall Battalion were duly assembled, with Major Larry Colby in command of the whole, and Dick at the head of Company A, Fred Garrison at the head of Company B, and Mark Romer leading Company C. In front of all stood Captain Putnam, the sole owner of the military institution, and George Strong, his chief assistant.
"The boys certainly make a fine showing, on this last day of our encampment," said Captain Putnam to his assistant. "And a good deal of the credit is due to you, Mr. Strong."
"Thank you for saying so, sir," was the answer. "Yes, they look well, and I am proud of them, Captain Putnam. I believe our military school will compare favorably with any in the land."
After the drill was over Captain Putnam came forward and made a rather extended speech, in which he reviewed the work accomplished at the academy from its first opening, as told by me in another series of books, entitled "The Putnam Hall Series," starting with "The Putnam Hall Cadets," down to those later days when the Rover boys appeared on the scene. He also complimented the cadets on their excellent showing and trusted they would all have a pleasant vacation during the summer. This speech was followed by a short address by George Strong, and then came a surprise when Dick Rover stepped forward.
"Captain Putnam," said he, "in behalf of all the cadets here assembled
I wish to thank you for your kind words, which we deeply appreciate.
"I have been chosen by my fellows to present you with this as a token of our esteem. We trust it will prove to your liking, and that whenever you look upon it you will remember us all."
As Dick spoke he brought into view a fair-sized package wrapped in tissue paper. When unrolled, it proved to be a small figure of a cadet, done in silver and gold. On the base was the inscription: "From the Cadets of Putnam Hall, to Their Beloved Head Master, Captain Victor Putnam."
After that Mr. Strong was presented with a set of Cooper's works and the other teachers were likewise remembered. More addresses of thanks followed, and then the battalion was dismissed for dinner.
"It's a fine wind-up for this season's encampment," said Tom, after it was over. "I don't believe we'll ever have another encampment like it."
"And now, ho, for the rolling river!" cried Sam. "Say, I'm just crazy to begin that trip on the houseboat."
"So am I," came from both of his brothers. But they might not have been so anxious had they dreamed of the many adventures and perils in store for them.
CHAPTER II
ON THE WAY TO PUTNAM HALL
"Boys, we start the march back to Putnam Hall in fifteen minutes!"
Such was the news which flew around the camp not long after the dinner hour had passed. Already the tents had been taken down, the baggage strapped, and six big wagons fairly groaned with the loads of goods to be taken back to the military institution.
The cadets had marched to the camp by one route and were to return to the academy by another. All was bustle and excitement, for in spite of the general order a few things had gone astray.
"Weally, this is most—ah—remarkable, don't you know," came from that aristocratic cadet named William Philander Tubbs.
"What's remarkable, Tublets?" asked Tom, who was near by, putting away a pair of blankets.
"Lieutenant Rover, how many times must I—ah—tell you not to address me as Tublets?" sighed the fashionable young cadet.
"Oh, all right, Tubhouse, it shan't occur again, upon my honor."
"Tubhouse! Oh, Rover, please let up!"
"What's wrong, Billy?"
"That is better, but it is bad enough," sighed William Philander.
"I've—ah—lost one of my walking shoes."
"Perhaps, being a walking shoe, it walked off."
"Maybe it got in that beefsteak we had this morning," put in Sam, with a wink. "I thought that steak was rather tough."
"Shoo yourself with such a joke, Sam," came from Fred Garrison.
"Have you really lost your shoe, Tubby, dear?" sang out Songbird Powell, the so-styled "poet" of the academy. And then he started to sing:
"Rub a dub dub!
One shoe on the Tubb!
Where can the other one be?
Look in your bunk
And look in your trunk,
And look in the bumble-bee tree!"
"Whoop! hurrah! Songbird has composed another ode in Washtub's honor," sang out Fred Garrison. "Washtub, you ought to give Songbird a dollar for that."
"Thanks, but I make not my odes for filthy lucre," same from Powell, tragically, and then he continued:
"One penny reward,
And a big tin sword,
To whoever finds the shoe.
Come one at a time,
And form in line,
And raise a hullabaloo!"
And then a shout went up that could be heard all over the encampment.
"I'll lend you a slipper, Tubbs," said little Harry Moss, whose shoes were several sizes smaller than those of the aristocratic cadet.
"Somebody get me a shingle and I'll cut Tubstand a sandal with my jackknife," came from Tom.
"I'll shingle you!" roared William Philander Tubbs, and rushed away to escape his tormentors. In the end he found another shoe, but it was not the one he wanted, for that had been rolled up in the blankets by Tom and was not returned until Putnam Hall was reached.
Drums and fifes enlivened the way as the cadets started for the military academy. The march was to take the balance of that afternoon and all of the next day. During the night they were to camp out like regular soldiers on the march, in a big field Captain Putnam had hired for that purpose.
The march did not take the cadets through Oakville, so the Rover boys did not see the friends they had made in that vicinity. They headed directly for the village of Bramley, and then for another small settlement named White Corners,—why, nobody could tell, since there was not so much as a white post anywhere to be seen in that vicinity.
"It's queer how a name sticks," declared Tom, after speaking of this to his brother Dick. "They might rather call this Brown Corners, since most of the houses are brown."
At the Corners they obtained supper, which was supplied to the cadets by the hotel keeper, who had been notified in advance of their coming.
While they were eating a boy who worked around the stables of the hotel watched them curiously. Afterwards this boy came up to Sam and Tom.
"We had a cadet here yesterday who was awfully mad," said the boy.
"Had hydrophobia, eh?" returned Tom. "Too bad!"
"No, I don't mean that; I mean he was very angry."
"What was the trouble?"
"I don't know exactly, but I think he had been sent away from the school for something or other."
"What was his name?"
"Lew Flapp."
"Why, I thought he had gone home!" cried Sam.
"So did I," answered his brother. He turned to the hotel youth. "What was this Flapp doing here?"
"Nothing much. He asked the boss when you were expected here."
"Is he here now?"
"No, he left last night."
"Where did he go to?"
"I don't know, but I thought I would tell you about the fellow. I think he is going to try to do you cadets some harm."
"Did he mention any names?"
"He seemed to be extra bitter against three brothers named Rover."
"Humph!"
"Are the Rovers here?" went on the youth.
"I think they are, sonny. I'm one, this is another, and there is the third," and Tom pointed to Dick, who was at a distance, conversing with some other cadets.
"Oh, so you are the Rovers! How strange that I should speak to you of this!"
"Which way did this Lew Flapp go?" questioned Sam.
"Off the way you are bound."
"I'll wager he tries to make trouble for us on our way to Putnam Hall,
Tom."
"It's not unlikely, Sam."
"Shall we tell Captain Putnam of this?" Tom shook his head.
"No, let us tell Dick, though, and a few of the others. Then we can keep our eyes peeled for Lew Flapp and, if he actually does wrong, expose him."
A little later Tom and Sam interviewed Dick on the subject, and then they told Larry Colby, Fred Garrison, George Granbury, and half a dozen others.
"I don't believe he will do much," said Larry Colby. "He is only talking, that's all. He knows well enough that Captain Putnam can have him locked up, if he wants to."
By eight o'clock that evening the field in which they were to encamp for the night was reached. Tents were speedily put up, and half a dozen camp-fires started, making the boys feel quite at home. The cadets gathered around the fires and sang song after song, and not a few practical jokes were played.
"Hans, they tell me you feel cold and want your blood shook up," said
Tom to Hans Mueller, the German cadet.
"Coldt, is it?" queried Hans. "Vot you dinks, I vos coldt mid der borometer apout two hundred by der shade, ain't it? I vos so hot like I lif in Africa alretty!"
"Oh, Hans must be cold!" cried Sam. "Let us shake him up, boys!"
"All right!" came from half a dozen. "Get a blanket, somebody!"
"No, you ton't, not by my life alretty!" sang out Hans, who had been tossed up before. "I stay py der groundt mine feets on!" And he started to run away.
Several went after him, and he was caught in the middle of an adjoining cornfield, where a rough-and-tumble scuffle ensued, with poor Hans at the bottom of the heap.
"Hi, git off, kvick!" he gasped. "Dis ton't been no footsball game nohow! Git off, somebody, und dake dot knee mine mouth out of!"
"Are you warm, now, Hansy!" asked Tom.
"Chust you wait, Tom Rofer," answered the German cadet, and shook his fist at his tormentor. "I git square somedimes, or mine name ain't—"
"Sauerkraut!" finished another cadet, and a roar went up. "Hans, is it true that you eat sauerkraut three times a day when you are at home?"
"No, I ton't eat him more as dree dimes a veek," answered Hans, innocently.
"Hans is going to treat us all to Limberger cheese when his birthday comes," put in Fred Garrison. "It's a secret though, so don't tell anybody."
"I ton't vos eat Limberger," came from Hans.
"Oh, Hansy!" groaned several in chorus.
"Base villain, thou hast deceived us!" quoted Songbird Powell. "Away to the dungeon with him!" And then the crowd dragged poor Hans through the cornfield and back to the camp-fire once more, where he was made to sit so close to the blaze that the perspiration poured from his round and rosy face. Yet with it all he took the joking in good part, and often gave his tormentors as good as they sent.
"They tell me that William Philander Tubbs is going to Newport for the summer," said Tom. a little later, when the cadets were getting ready to retire. "Just wait till he gets back next Fall, he'll be more dudish than ever."
"We ought to tame him a little before we let him go," said Sam.
"Right you are, Sam. But what can we do? Nearly everything has been tried since we went into camp."
"I have a plan, Tom."
"All right; let's have it."
"Why not black Tubby up while he is asleep?"
"Sam, you are a jewel. But where are we to get the lamp-black?"
"I've got it already. I put several corks in the camp-fire, and burnt cork is the best stuff for blacking up known."
"Right again. Oh, but we'll make William Philander look like a regular negro minstrel. And that's not all. After the job is done we'll wake him up and tell him Captain Putnam wants to see him at once."
Several boys were let into the secret, and then all waited impatiently for Tubbs to retire. This he soon did, and in a few minutes was sound asleep.
"Now then, come on," said Sam, and led the way to carry out the anticipated fun.
CHAPTER III
THE DOINGS OF A NIGHT
As luck would have it, William Philander Tubbs just then occupied a tent alone, his two tent-mates being on guard duty for two hours as was the custom during encampment.
The aristocratic cadet lay flat on his back, with his face and throat well exposed.
"Now, be careful, Sam, or you'll wake him up," whispered Tom.
One cadet held a candle, while Sam and Tom blackened the face of the sleeping victim of the joke. The burnt cork was in excellent condition and soon William Philander looked for all the world like a coal-black darkey.
"Py chimanatics, he could go on der stage py a nigger minstrel company," was Hans Mueller's comment.
"Makes almost a better nigger than he does a white man," said Tom, dryly.
"Wait a minute till I fix up his coat for him," said Fred Garrison, and turned the garment inside out.
A moment later all of the cadets withdrew, leaving the tent in total darkness. Then one stuck his head in through the flap.
"Hi, there, Private Tubbs!" he called out. "Wake up!"
"What—ah—what's the mattah?" drawled the aristocratic cadet, sleepily.
"Captain Putnam wants you to report to him or to Mr. Strong at once," went on the cadet outside, in a heavy, assumed voice.
"Wants me to report?" questioned Tubbs, sitting up in astonishment.
"Yes, and at once. Hurry up, for it's very important."
"Well, this is assuredly strange," murmured William Philander to himself. "Wonder what is up?"
He felt around in the dark for a light, but it had been removed by Tom and so had all the matches.
"Beastly luck, not a match!" growled Tubbs, and then began to dress in the dark. In his hurry he did not notice that his coat was inside out, nor did he discover that his face and hands were blacked.
Captain Putnam's quarters were at the opposite end of the camp, and in that direction William Philander hurried until suddenly stopped by a guard who chanced to be coming in from duty.
"Halt!" cried the cadet. "What are you doing in this camp?" he demanded.
"Captain Putnam wants me," answered Tubbs, thinking the guard wanted to know why he was astir at that hour of the night.
"Captain Putnam wants you?"
"Yes."
"It's strange. How did you get in?"
"In? In where?"
"In this camp?"
"Oh, Ribble, are you crazy?"
"So you know me," said Ribble. "Well, I must say I don't know you."
"You certainly must be crazy. I am William Philander Tubbs."
"What! Oh, then you—" stammered Ribble, and then a light dawned on him. "Who told you the captain wanted to see you?"
"Some cadet who just woke me up."
"All right, go ahead then," and Ribble grinned. Behind Tubbs he now saw half a dozen cadets hovering in the semi-darkness, watching for sport.
On ran William Philander, to make up for lost time, and soon arrived at the flap of the tent occupied by Captain Putnam.
"Here I am, Captain Putnam!" he called out. And then, as he got no reply, he called again. By this time the captain was awake, and coming to the flap, he peered out.
"What do you want?" he asked, sharply.
"You sent for me, sir," stammered Tubbs.
"I sent for you?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have no recollection of so doing," answered Captain Putman. "Where are you from?"
"From?"
"Exactly."
"Why, I am—ah—from this camp," answered the puzzled Tubbs.
"Do you mean to tell me you belong here?" questioned the now astonished master of Putnam Hall.
"Of course, Captain Putnam. Didn't you send for me? Somebody said you did," continued William Philander.
"Sir, I don't know you and never heard of you, so far as I can remember. You must be mixed up.
"I mixed up? I guess you are mixed up," roared Tubbs, growing angry.
"If I don't belong to this camp, where do I belong?"
"How should I know? We have no negroes here, to the best of my knowledge."
"Captain Putnam, what do you mean by calling me an—ah—negro?" fumed
William Philander.
"Well, aren't you one? I can't see very well."
"No, sir; I am not a negro, and never was a negro," answered Tubbs, getting more and more excited. "I shall report this to my parents when I arrive home."
"Will you in all goodness tell me your name?" queried Captain Putnam, beginning to realize that something was wrong.
"You know my name well enough, sir."
"Perhaps I do, and perhaps I don't. Answer me, please."
"My name is William Philander Tubbs."
"Tubbs! Is it possible!"
"Somebody came to my tent and said you wanted to see me."
"Well, did you think it was necessary to black up to make a call on me?"
"Black up?" repeated William Philander. "That is what I said?"
"Am I black, sir?"
"Yes, as black as coal. Look at yourself in this glass," and the captain held out a small looking glass and also a lantern.
When Tubbs saw himself in the glass he almost had a fit.
"My gracious sakes alive!" he groaned. "How ridiculous! How did this happen? Why, I look like a negro!"
"Is anything amiss, Captain Putnam?" came from the next tent, and
George Strong appeared.
"Nothing, excepting that Private Tubbs has seen fit to black up as a negro and call upon me," answered the master of the academy, with a faint smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
"I didn't black up!" roared William Philander. "It's all a horrid joke somebody has played on me while I was asleep! You don't want me, do you?"
"No, Tubbs."
"Then I'll go back, and if I can find out who did this—"
A burst of laughter from a distance made him break off short.
"They're laughing at me!" he went on. "Just hear that!"
"Go to bed, and I will investigate in the morning," answered Captain
Putnam, and William Philander went off, vowing vengeance.
"Just wait till I find out who did it," he told himself, as he washed up the best he could in some cold water. "I'll have them in court for it." But he never did find out, nor did Captain Putnam's investigation lead to any disclosures.
William Philander's trials for that night were not yet at an end. On the march to the camp some of the cadets had picked up a number of burrs of fair size. A liberal quantity of these had been introduced under the covers of Tubbs' cot immediately after he left the tent.
Having washed up as best he could, the aristocratic cadet blew out the light he had borrowed and prepared to retire once more. He threw back the covers and dropped heavily upon the cot in just the spot where the sharpest of the burrs lay.
An instant later a wild shriek of pain and astonishment rent the air.
"Ouch! Oh my, I'm stuck full of pins! Oh, dear me!"
And then William Philander Tubbs leaped up and began to dance around like a wild Indian.
"What's the matter with you, Billy?" asked one of his tent-mates, entering in the midst of the excitement.
"What's the matter?" roared poor Tubbs. "Everything is the matter, don't you know. It's an ah—outrage!"
"Somebody told me you had blacked up as a negro minstrel and were going to serenade your best girl."
"It's not so, Parkham. Some beastly cadets played a joke on me! Oh, wait till I find out who did it!" And then William Philander began to moan once more over the burrs. It was a good quarter of an hour before he had his cot cleaned off and fit to use once more, and even then he was so excited and nervous he could not sleep another wink.
"William Philander won't forget his last night with the boys in a hurry," remarked Tom, as he slipped off to bed once more.
"You had better keep quiet over this," came from Dick. "We don't want to spoil our records for the term, remember."
"Right you are, Dick. I'll be as mum as a clam climbing a huckleberry bush."
The boys were tired out over the march of the afternoon and over playing the joke on Tubbs, and it was not long before all of the Rovers were sound asleep. The three brothers had begged for permission to tent together and this had been allowed by Captain Putnam, for the term was virtually over, ending with the dismissal of the cadets at the last encampment parade.
On guard duty at one end of the field was a cadet named Link Smith, a rather weak-minded fellow who was easily led by those who cared to exert an influence over him. At one time Link Smith had trained with Lew Flapp and his evil associates, but fortunately for the feeble-minded cadet he had been called home during the time when Lew Flapp got into the trouble which ended by his dismissal from Putnam Hall.
Link Smith was pacing up and down sleepily when he heard a peculiar whistle close at hand. He listened intently and soon heard the whistle repeated.
"The old call," he murmured to himself. At first he did not feel like answering, but presently did so. Then from out of the gloom stalked a tall young fellow, dressed in the uniform of a cadet but with a face that was strangely painted and powdered.
"Who is it?" questioned Link Smith, uneasily.
"Don't you know me, Link?"
"Lew Flapp!" cried the weak-minded cadet.
"Hush, not so loud, Link. Somebody might hear you."
"What do you want?"
"I want to visit the camp," answered Lew Flapp.
CHAPTER IV
WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT FORTH
Link Smith was much surprised by Lew Flapp's assertion that he wanted to visit the camp during the middle of the night and when practically everybody was asleep.
"What do you want to come in for?" he asked, feeling fairly certain that Flapp's mission could not be as upright and honest as desired.
"Oh, it's all right, Link," answered the big bully, smoothly.
"But what do you want?"
"Well, if you must know, I want to talk to a couple of my old friends."
"Why can't you talk to them to-morrow, after they leave school?"
"That won't do. I want them to do something for me before they leave the academy."
"It's a strange request to make, Lew."
"Oh, it's perfectly square, I assure you. You see, it's this way: I want them to get some proofs for me,—to prove that I am not as black as the follows reported to Captain Putnam."
Now, it is possible that some other cadet would not have been hoodwinked in this fashion by the bully, but Link Smith swallowed the explanation without a second thought.
"Oh, if that's what you want, go ahead," said he. "But don't tell anybody I let you in."
"I shan't say a word if you don't," answered Lew Flapp. "By the way," he went on, with assumed indifference, "they tell me the Rover boys have cleared out and gone home."
"No, they haven't," was Link Smith's prompt answer.—They are right here."
"Are you sure, Link?"
"Of course I am. They are bunking together in the last tent in Street B, over yonder," and the feeble-minded cadet pointed with his hand as he spoke.
"Is that so! Well, I don't care. I don't want to see them again until I can prove to Captain Putnam that they are a set of rascals."
"Are you going to try to get into the academy again, Lew?" asked Link, curiously.
"Not much! I'll be done with Captain Putnam just as soon as I can show him how he mistreated me and how the Rovers are pulling the wool over his eyes."
"Everybody here thinks the Rovers about perfect."
"That's because they don't know them as well as I and Rockley do."
A few words more passed, and then Lew Flapp slipped into the camp lines and made his way between the long rows of tents.
He had gained from Link Smith just the information he desired, namely, the location of the Rover boys' sleeping quarters. He looked back, to make certain that Link was not watching him, and then hurried on to where the Rovers rested, totally unconscious of the proximity of their enemy.
"I'll show them what I can do," muttered Lew Flapp to himself. "I'll make them wish they had never been born!"
At last the tent was reached and with caution he opened the flap and peered inside. All was dark, and with a hand that was none too steady he struck a match and held it up.
Each of the Rover boys lay sleeping peacefully on his cot, with his clothing hung up on one of the tent poles.
"Now for working my little plan," murmured Flapp, and allowed the match to go out. In a second more he was inside the tent, moving around cautiously so as not to disturb the sleepers.
The bully remained in the tent all of ten minutes. Then he came out as cautiously as he had entered, and fairly ran to where Link Smith was still on guard.
"Did you see them?" asked the feeble-minded cadet.
"I did, and it's all right, Link. Now, don't tell anybody I visited the camp."
"Humph! do you think I want to get myself in trouble?"
"Good-night."
"Good-night."
And in a moment more Lew Flapp was out of sight down the country roadway and Link Smith was pacing his post as before.
Bright and early the camp was astir, and at half-past seven o'clock a good hot breakfast was served, the cadets pitching into the food provided with a will.
"And now for Putnam Hall and the grand wind-up," said Tom, as he finished his repast.
"And then to go home and prepare for that grand trip on the houseboat," came from Sam.
"Which puts me in mind that we must see who will go with us," said
Dick.
"Songbird Powell says he is more than willing," answered Tom. "And I know Dutchy will fall all over himself to become one of the party."
"I think Fred Garrison will go," said Sam. "He said he would let me know as soon as he heard from his parents."
Captain Putnam had expected to begin the march to the Hall by half-past eight, but there were numerous delays in packing the camping outfit, so the battalion was not ready for the start until over an hour later.
The cadets were just being formed to start the march when several men appeared at the edge of the field.
"There's them young soldiers now!" cried one. Come on and find the rascals!"
"What do you want, gentlemen?" demanded George Strong, who happened to be near the crowd.
"Who is in charge of this school?" asked one of the men.
"Captain Victor Putnam is the owner. I am his head assistant."
"Well, I'm Josiah Cotton, the constable of White Corners."
"What can I do for you, Mr. Cotton?"
"I'm after a feller named Dick Rover, and his two brothers. Are they here?"
"They are. What do you want of them?"
"I'm goin' to lock 'em up if they did what I think they did."
"Lock them up?" cried George Strong, in astonishment.
"That's what I said. Show me the young villains."
"But what do you think they have done?"
"They broke into my shop an' stole some things," put in another of the men.
"That's right, they did," came from a third man. "Don't let 'em give ye the slip, Josiah."