The Rover Boys in New York; Or, Saving Their Father's Honor

by Edward Stratemeyer

  CHAPTER V

  TWO VISITORS

  "That's the last of the Dartaway!"

  "Are you hurt, Dick?"

  "My, wasn't that a narrow escape!"

  "A minute later and it would have been all up with us!"

  "I--I guess I'm all right," stammered Dick, putting one hand to hisforehead, where a lump was rapidly rising. "I got some fall though!"he added, grimly.

  "Look what hit me!" cried Sam, picking up a section of a bamboostick--one which had supported one of the planes of the flyingmachine.

  "I'm glad we weren't closer to that smash-up!"

  Having plowed through the biplane, the express train had come to ahalt with the last car standing not a great distance beyond the sceneof the collision. Already the trainmen were hurrying out, some withlanterns, to learn if anybody had been killed or hurt.

  "Why, it's an airship!" cried the conductor. "How in the name of Adamdid that get here?"

  "Here are three fellows!" cried the engineer, as the rays of a lanternrevealed the Rover boys. "Were you in that flying machine?" he called.

  "We were," answered Tom, grimly.

  "Anybody hurt?"

  "My brother got a bad tumble and is partly stunned."

  "We didn't hit anybody, did we?" questioned the engineer, anxiously.

  "Nothing but the biplane," answered Sam. "You made mince-meat ofthat."

  "How did you happen to land on the track?" asked the fireman.

  "The wind put the machine out of control and we came down quicker thanwe wanted to," explained Sam. "Then you came along--before we had achance to drag the biplane off the tracks."

  "Well, I'm glad I didn't hit anybody," said the engineer, in tones ofrelief.

  "We had a close shave," returned Tom, and then he and Sam told of howthey had struck, and of how Dick had been dragged out of the way. Bythis time the oldest Rover boy was feeling more like himself and hemanaged to stand up, even though somewhat dizzy.

  "Well, we're losing time," said the conductor, consulting his watch bythe light of his lantern. "We'll have to get into Ashton and reportthis."

  "And somebody has got to pay for the biplane," said Tom.

  "I don't see as it is our fault," answered the trainman, and then hegave the order to go ahead--after it had been ascertained that thetrack was clear.

  "We'll ride to Ashton with you," said Dick. "No use of staying withthis wreckage," he added, to his brothers. "We can drive downto-morrow and look it over. I don't think it is worth much."

  "Never mind--I am glad nobody was seriously hurt," returned Sam.

  "I guess we all feel that way," added Tom.

  It was a run of only a few minutes to Ashton. On the way the conductorof the train took the Rover boys' names and address.

  "I don't see how you can blame us for smashing the flying machine," hesaid. "You had no business to come down on the track."

  "We might have gotten our biplane off the track, if you had halted thetrain," returned Dick. "We could have dragged it into the bushes."

  "I don't know about that."

  As soon as the train rolled into Ashton the bays alighted. The onlyother passenger to get off was one of the local storekeepers.

  "You were lucky boys," said the man, pleasantly. He knew them bysight, for they had traded at his shop.

  "That's true, Mr. Striker," said Dick. "But we don't seem to be luckyjust now."

  "How's that?"

  "There isn't a conveyance of any kind here to take us to Brill, and Imust say I don't feel like walking."

  "You go around to Carson's livery stable. He'll take you over to thecollege," answered Mr. Striker.

  The livery stable was but a short distance away and they found theproprietor on hand, reading a newspaper and smoking his pipe.

  "It's a wonder you wouldn't have a rig over at the depot, to meet themain trains," grumbled Tom.

  "'Twouldn't pay," answered Neal Carson. "I tried it once, and earnedtwo dollars and a half in two weeks. Folks that want me can come herefor me."

  "Well, we want to get to Brill College," said Dick.

  "All right, but it will cost you fifty cents each."

  "Very well."

  The livery stable keeper hustled around and soon had a team ready. Theboys were glad enough to take it easy in the carriage, and on the wayto college but little was said.

  "Rather late, young gentlemen," remarked Professor Blackie, sharply,as they entered.

  "We had an accident, Professor," returned Dick.

  "An accident?" and the instructor was all attention.

  "Our biplane got smashed up," put in Tom.

  "Indeed! I am sorry to hear that. Are you hurt?"

  "Got a shaking up and a few scratches," answered Sam.

  Then their story had to be told in detail. Soon it became noised allover the place that the Dartaway had been wrecked, and before theycould get a mouthful to eat the three Rovers had to tell the storyover and over again.

  "I'm sorry the biplane was wrecked, but glad you escaped," saidSongbird, earnestly. He cherished his old friends as if they werebrothers.

  "Just what I say already," cried Max Spangler, a German-Americanstudent. "You can buy a new flying machine, yes, but you can't buy anew head or a body, not much!" And he shook his head earnestly.

  Even while the lads were eating they had to give further details ofthe disastrous flight. Doctor Wallington congratulated them on theirescape.

  "You had better leave flying alone after this," he remarked.

  "I think we shall--for a while, at least," answered Tom, dryly.

  As soon as it was possible to do so, the boys sent a message to thegirls and to their folks, telling about the accident and of theirescape.

  "It's bound to get in the newspapers," said Dick. "And if we don'tsend word the others will be scared to death."

  The oldest Rover boy was right about the affair getting in thenewspapers. The local sheets gave the accident a column or more andsome city sheets took it up and made a "spread" of it, with picturesthat were truly thrilling even though they were inaccurate.

  "Humph! look at this picture!" cried Sam, showing up the supplement toa New York Sunday newspaper. "Looks as if we hit the smokestack of thelocomotive and sailed along on that for a mile or two! Phew! what animagination that artist must have!"

  "And here is a picture showing the train climbing over the biplane!"returned Tom. "Say, it's a wonder we didn't wreck the Express insteadof the Express wrecking us!"

  On the day following the accident the boys were told, after classhours, that some gentlemen wished to see them. They went to thereception room, to find two men there--a lawyer and a doctor.

  "You are the--er--the young gentlemen who were in the--er--theflying machine smash-up?" queried one of the visitors, sharply.

  "Yes," answered Dick.

  "Mr. Rover?"

  "Yes, Richard Rover."

  "Just so. Glad to know you. My name is Fogg--Belright Fogg. This isDoctor Slamper. We represent the railroad company, Mr. Rover. Thedoctor came along to see if you had been hurt."

  "I got this," answered Dick, with a quiet smile, and pointed to thelump on his forehead.

  "Ah, yes, I see," put in Doctor Slamper. "Not very serious, I takeit."

  "Oh, it didn't kill me."

  "Ha! ha! Good joke, Mr. Rover! Feel pretty good otherwise, eh?"

  "Oh, I'm able to sit up."

  "And these other young gentlemen are all right, of course," went onthe doctor, smoothly.

  His manner was such that the boys were disgusted. Evidently he hadcome to smooth matters over, so that they would not put in a claim forpersonal injuries. And the lawyer had come to ward off a claim for theloss of the Dartaway.

  "No, I'm not all right, Doctor--far from it," cried Tom, before theothers could say another word. And then the fun-loving Rover went on:"My knee is sprained, and my back twisted, and I have a pain in one ofmy right teeth, and my brothers both got their arms wrenched, and onegot his left big toe
out of joint, and none of us can see extra good,and I think my big brother's right ear is out of order, and mydigestion is not what it should be, and I fear----"

  "Stop! stop!" interrupted the doctor, in amazement. "Do you mean tosay----"

  "And the back of my neck feels out of kilter somehow," continued Tom,"and Sam's left hip isn't just as straight as it should be, and when Ihit my elbow I have the funniest sensation crawl down my shoulderblade ever was, and we all think we ought to go to a sanitarium for atleast six months or a year; don't you think so, too, Doctor?"

  "Well, I never!" gasped Doctor Slamper, falling back against a centertable. "Why, my dear young men, I think----"

  "And the Dartaway is gone--our dear old flying machine!" groaned Tom."The machine we hoped to fly in to Washington, to the nextinauguration. Why, don't you know that the planes of that machine werecovered with the autographs of most of the big men of this country?Whenever we sailed around to visit our friends or the big men we hadthem write their autographs on the canvas wings of the machine. Thoseautographs alone were worth about a million, more or less!"

  "What's this?" put in Belright Fogg, quickly. "A flying machinevaluable because of the autographs on it? Preposterous! If you thinkthe railroad will stand to pay anything on such a thing as that, youare mistaken."

  "But how are we to get those autographs back?" whined Tom. "Some ofthe men who gave them may be dead now!"

  "See here, let us get down to business," cried Belright Fogg. "Youdon't look to be knocked out--at least, not a great deal anyway. Am Iright, Doctor?"

  "I--I think so. Of course they may be--be shocked a little,"returned the physician. "Probably they are--from the way this youngman talks--little nervous disorder." And he pointed at Tom, whileDick and Sam had to turn away, to keep from bursting into laughter.

  "Um! Nervous, eh? Well, a few days of quietness will remedy that,"answered the lawyer. "Now, see here." He looked wisely at the threeRovers. "Our railroad disclaims all responsibility for this accident.But at the same time we--er--we want to do the right thing, youknow--rather do that than have any unpleasant feelings, understand?Now if you are willing to accept our offer, we'll fix this matterright up and say no more about it."

  "What is you offer?" questioned Dick.

  "Three hundred dollars--one hundred dollars each."

  "You mean for our personal injuries?" questioned Sam.

  "I mean for everything."

  "Nothing doing," returned Dick, promptly, and with a bit of pardonableslang.

  "You will not accept?"

  "We might accept three hundred dollars for the shaking up wegot--although we don't know if our nerves are all right or not. Sometimesthese things turn out worse than at first anticipated. But therailroad has got to pay for the biplane it smashed."

  "Never!"

  "I think it will."

  "You got in the way of the train--it was your own fault."

  "Your track isn't fenced in--I have a right to cross it where Iplease. If I had a wagon and it broke down, you would have no right torun into it. The law might not hold you criminally liable, but itwould hold you liable for the worth of the wagon and contents.

  "Say, are you a lawyer?" queried Belright Fogg, curiously.

  "No, but I know my rights," returned Dick, promptly.