The Rover Boys Megapack

by Edward Stratemeyer

  “How much do you want me to drink?” he asked cheerfully.

  “Only one glass, if you drink it without stopping to sneeze,” put in another voice, and now Dick was certain that he recognized Rockley.

  “These are no friends,” he thought. “They are enemies and they intend to play me foul.”

  “How can I drink with my hands tied behind me?” he asked.

  “We will hold the glass for you,” said another, and Dick felt almost sure it was Gus Pender who uttered the words.

  “It’s the whole Flapp crowd,” he mused. “I’m in a pickle and no mistake. I suppose they’ll half kill me before they let me go.”

  “Will you drink?” asked another. He was small in size and Dick put him down as being Ben Hurdy.

  “I want you to untie my hands.”

  “Very well, let the prisoner hold the glass,” said Flapp.

  “Thank you, Flapp.”

  “Who said I was Flapp?” growled the tall boy, in dismay.

  “I say so.”

  “My name is Brown.”

  “All right then, Brown let it be,” said Dick, not wanting to anger the bully too much.

  The prisoner’s hands were untied and a glass containing a dark-colored mixture was handed to him. Dick had heard of the “glass of poison” before, said glass containing nothing but mud and water well stirred up. But now he was suspicious. This glass looked as if it might contain something else.

  “They’d as soon drug me as not,” he thought. “For all I know this may be a dose strong enough to make an elephant sick. I don’t think I’ll drink it, no matter what they do.”

  “Prisoner, drink!” was the cry.

  “Thanks, but I am not thirsty,” answered Dick, as coolly as he could. “Besides, I had my dose of mud and water a long time ago.”

  “He must drink!” roared Rockley.

  “Get the switches!” ordered Lew Flapp, and from a corner a number of long, heavy switches were brought forth and passed around.

  Things began to look serious and it must be confessed that Dick’s heart beat fast, for he had no desire to undergo a switching at the hands of such a cold-hearted crowd, who would be sure to lay on the strokes heavily.

  “Don’t you strike me,” said Dick, thinking rapidly. “I’ll drink fast enough. But I want to know one thing first.”

  “Well?”

  “What are you going to do with me next?”

  “Make you take the antidote for the poison,” said Flapp.

  “And what is that?”

  “Another drink.”

  “They are going to drug me as sure as fate,” reasoned Dick. “How can I outwit them?”

  While he was deliberating there was a noise outside, as a night bird swept by the entrance to the hermit’s den.

  All of the masked cadets were startled and looked in that direction.

  By inspiration Dick seized the moment to throw the contents of the glass over his shoulder into a dark corner. When the crowd turned back he had the glass turned up to his mouth and was going through the movement of swallowing.

  “Ugh! what ugly stuff,” he said, handing the glass to one of the crowd.

  “Ha! he has swallowed the poison!” cried Lew Flapp, and nudged Rockley in the ribs. “That was easy, wasn’t it?” he whispered.

  “Give him the second glass,” muttered Rockley. “That will make him as foolish as a fiddler.”

  Pender already had the glass handy. He passed it to Dick, who suddenly glared at him in an uncertain manner. Dick had smelt the liquor in the first glass and now realized something of the plot to bring him to disgrace.

  “Say, but that stuff makes me feel lightheaded,” he said. “Wasn’t so bad, after all.”

  “Drink this, quick,” cried Flapp, more eagerly than ever.

  “All right,” said Dick, and spilt a little out of the glass onto the floor. “Wonder what makes my hand shake so?” he murmured.

  “Take this and it will brace you up,” put in Pender.

  “Ha, look there!” yelled Dick, gazing fixedly at the rear of the den. “See the three-headed owl!”

  All looked in the direction and again he threw the contents of the glass behind him. Then he pretended to drink, while glaring at the cadets around him.

  “Funny, I can’t count you any more!” he muttered. “Six, seven, ten, ‘leven, nine! Say, I’m all mixed up. Who put me on the merry-go-’round anyway?” He began to stagger. “Guess I’m on a toboggan slide, ain’t I?” and he acted as if he could no longer stand up-right.

  “Cut him loose, fellows!” cried Flapp, and this was done, and Dick staggered to the table, clutched it, slid to the floor and acted as if he had fallen into a deep sleep.

  “Say, that was dead easy!” cried Pender gleefully. “Took the stuff like a lamb.”

  “What’s to do next, Flapp?” asked Jackson.

  “Say, Jackson, don’t speak my name, please,” cried the tall boy in alarm.

  “Oh, what’s the odds,” put in Pender. “Rover is dead to the world. Rockley knew just how to fix those doses.”

  “That’s right, Gus,” came from Rockley.

  “We had better not lose time here,” went on Flapp presently. “Let us tell Captain Putnam without delay. He’ll have Rover brought back to camp just as he is, and that will disgrace him forever.”

  “Wait till I put the empty bottle near him,” said Rockley, and this was done.

  Then the crowd of masked cadets left the den, leaving the door wide open behind them.

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  DICK’S MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE

  A minute after the last of Lew Flapp’s crowd left the hermit’s den Dick leaped to his feet, went to the doorway, and listened intently. It was quite dark, so he could see little or nothing.

  At a distance he heard the masked cadets stealing swiftly along through the woods. They had put out the lantern, knowing the road fairly well through repeated excursions to the den. Soon the crowd was completely out of hearing.

  It must be confessed that Dick felt lonely, and almost the first thing he did was to take a match from his pocket and strike it. Discovering a bit of candle on the table he lighted this also.

  But little was to be seen outside of that which had already met his gaze. The hermit’s den had been cleaned up around the table, on which rested half a dozen bottles, an empty cigar box, and several packs of cards.

  “This must be the stuff those fellows bought in Oakville,” thought the eldest Rover. “They have been using this cave for a regular club room. What a beastly crowd they are! And they really imagine they are having good times, too!”

  As will be remembered, Dick had been given a trip on a rowboat before being brought into the den and he imagined that he was somewhere near the head of Bass Lake, how far from the camp he could not tell.

  “Perhaps I’m near where Tom and the others met those snakes,” he mused. “Ugh! I don’t want to fall in with things like that. And how I am to get back to camp without a boat is more than I can settle.”

  Blowing out the bit of candle, he placed it in his pocket and left the den. On all sides were the thick bushes already described, and poor Dick knew not which way to turn. He listened once more, but hardly a sound broke the midnight silence.

  “Might as well strike out as to stay here,” he said. “I don’t think they’ll come back in very much of a hurry, and perhaps they won’t come until morning.”

  Pushing his way through the bushes he at last reached a tiny stream that poured over the rocks. He followed the stream and after half an hour’s hard walking reached the edge of the lake. He had journeyed directly away from the camp and was now in a spot that was lonely in the extreme.

  Fortunately or unfortunately, the water at this point was very shallow and soon Dick was wading over to what he took to b
e the island upon which the encampment had been located. But as a matter of fact he was headed for the main shore of the lake, and soon he was tramping further away from the camp than ever. For once in his life, so far as his bump of locality was concerned, Dick was hopelessly mixed.

  Dick traveled nearly a mile before he reached the conclusion that he was not on Pine Island or anywhere near it.

  “I’m on the mainland, that’s certain,” he told himself. “I guess the best thing I can do is to wait for daylight before going further. I may only—Hullo, a light!”

  Dick had emerged from a grove of trees and now saw a light streaming from the window of a cottage but a short distance away. The sight of this caused him to breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Some farmer’s place, I suppose,” he murmured. “Well, anything will do. I can get a place to sleep, and the farmer can testify to it that I haven’t been drinking, as Lew Flapp and his cronies will want to prove.”

  A curtain was drawn over the window of the cottage, so that Dick could not see into the room. The cottage was small, with but a single doors and on this the youth rapped loudly.

  The rapping was followed by a commotion inside of the cottage and Dick heard two persons leap to their feet.

  “Who’s there?” demanded a rough voice.

  “A stranger,” Dick answered. “I have lost my way in the darkness,” and without waiting he tried the door, and finding it unlocked, opened it.

  “Dick Rover!”

  The cry came from one of the occupants of the room, a tall, awkward-looking young man, much tanned by exposure, and with a pair of dark and wicked-looking eyes.

  “Great Scott!” gasped Dick, falling back a step. “Am I dreaming or is this really Dan Baxter?”

  “Oh. I’m Dan Baxter right enough,” answered the former bully of Putnam Hall.

  “But—but I thought you were still on that island in the Pacific.”

  “You wanted to see me end my days there, didn’t you?” sneered Dan Baxter.

  Dick did not reply, for he was gazing at the other occupant of the room, a man with a short crop of hair and a short beard.

  “And your father, too!” he murmured.

  “Come in here,” cried Arnold Baxter savagely and caught him by the arm. “Are you alone?”

  “Yes,” answered Dick, before he had stopped to think twice.

  “Good enough. Come in,” and Arnold Baxter continued to hold him.

  “He may be fooling us, dad,” put in Dan Baxter. “The officers of the law may be with him.”

  “Take a look around and see, Dan. I’ll keep him here.”

  “Let me go!” cried Dick, trying to break away.

  “Not much, Rover. You’ll stay right where you are for the present,” answered the older Baxter grimly.

  Dan had slipped out and he made a thorough search before returning to the cottage. In the meantime Dick was forced to sit down on a bench in a corner, while Arnold Baxter stood over him with a stout club.

  “This is getting interesting, to say the least,” thought Dick. “I wish I hadn’t come anywhere near the cottage.”

  “Nobody around,” announced Dan Baxter, as he came in and closed and locked the door.

  “Good,” answered his father. He turned again to Dick. “Now, how comes it that you are wandering around here, Rover?” he went on.

  “I was trying to find my way back to camp and lost my way in the woods.”

  “But your camp is on an island.”

  “I know it. I was carried off by some students who were hazing me. They put a bag over my head and took me in a boat, and I got mixed up.

  “I hope they hazed you good,” came from Dan Baxter with a malicious grin.

  “Thank you, Dan, you always were a real friend,” returned Dick, as coolly as he could.

  “Oh, don’t you come any of that game over me!” roared Dan Baxter. “I haven’t forgotten the past, Dick Rover, and you’ll find it out so before I get through with you. I was just hoping you or your precious brothers might drop into my arms.”

  “What are you and your father doing here?”

  “That is my business,” broke in Arnold Baxter.

  “I don’t see why you fellows can’t turn over a new leaf,” went on Dick earnestly.

  “Oh, don’t preach, Dick Rover,” answered Dan Baxter. “You make me sick when you do that.”

  “I suppose you find this a good hiding place.”

  “It has been—up to now,” said Arnold Baxter. “But since you have discovered us—” he did not finish.

  “We’ll make him pay for it,” said Dan Baxter. “I’ve been waiting to square accounts for a long time.”

  “How did you escape from that island, Dan?” asked Dick curiously.

  “A ship came along about a week after you left it.”

  “I see. And did you come right through to here?”

  “That is my business, Dick Rover. But I came to help my father, I don’t mind telling you that.”

  “Then you knew he had escaped from prison?”

  “From the hospital, yes.”

  “And did you know he had robbed our house?”

  “He took what belonged to him, Dick Rover. Your folks robbed him of that mine in the West.”

  “Well, I won’t argue the point, Dan Baxter.” Dick got up and moved toward the door. “I think I’ll go.”

  “Will you!” cried both of the Baxters, in a breath, and seizing him they forced him back into the corner.

  “Let us make him a prisoner,” went on Dan Baxter, and this was speedily done by aid of a rope which the elder Baxter brought forth. Then Dick was thrown into a closet of an inner apartment and the door was locked upon him.

  CHAPTER XXIX

  TRUE HEROISM

  “Well, one thing is certain, I am much worse off now than I was when in the hands of Lew Flapp’s crowd,” thought Dick dismally, after trying in vain to break the bonds that bound him.

  The closet in which he was a prisoner was so small that he could scarcely turn himself. The door was a thick one, so to break it down was out of the question.

  “Stop your row in there!” called out Dan Baxter presently. “If you don’t, I’ll give you something you won’t want.”

  “How long are you going to keep me here?”

  “If you wait long enough you’ll find out,” was the unsatisfactory answer.

  “It won’t do you any good to keep me a prisoner, Dan.”

  “Won’t it? Perhaps you think I’m going to let you go so that you can get the officers to arrest my father,” sneered the younger Baxter.

  “They are bound to get him anyway, sooner or later.”

  “They’ll never get him if they don’t catch him this week.”

  “Why? Is he going to leave the country?”

  “That’s his business, not yours,” said Dan Baxter, and walked away.

  “It’s too bad he turned up as he did,” remarked Arnold Baxter, when he found himself alone with his son. “I thought I’d be safe here until I could slip over to Boston.”

  “When does that steamer sail for Cape Town, Africa, dad?”

  “Tuesday or Wednesday of next week.”

  “Then all we can do is to keep Dick Rover a prisoner until that time.”

  “We can’t do it, Dan. As soon as he is reported missing this whole vicinity will be searched.”

  “Do you think they’ll find this cottage?”

  “Perhaps, although so far I have not been disturbed.”

  “Tom and Sam Rover came pretty close to locating you, didn’t they?”

  “They came within half a mile of the spot. But I gave them the slip.”

  “I wish I could square up with all of the Rovers,” went on Dan Baxter savagely. “They have caused me no end of trouble.”
>
  “Better leave them alone, Dan. Every time you try to do something you get your fingers burnt.”

  To this the son could not answer, for he knew that his father spoke the truth.

  A long talk followed, and then Dan Baxter left, promising to return before noon of the next day. He was to proceed to a town about twelve miles away and there purchase for his father a new suit of clothing and a preparation for dyeing his hair and beard. With this disguise Arnold Baxter hoped to get away from the vicinity and reach Boston without being recognized.

  So far the night had been clear, but now a storm was brewing. From a great distance came a rumble of thunder and occasionally a glimpse of lightning lit up the landscape.

  “You’ll have a bad journey of it,” said Arnold Baxter to his son as the latter was leaving.

  “Reckon I’ll have to make the best of it,” answered Dan. “But I’ve got used to such things, since I’ve been knocking around the ocean and elsewhere.”

  Left to himself, Arnold Baxter paced the floor of the cottage uneasily. Age was beginning to tell upon him and he was by no means the man he was when introduced to the Rovers years before.

  “I wish I was out of it,” he murmured to himself. “I’d give a good deal to be on the ocean this minute, bound for some place where I can make a fresh start.”

  The storm kept growing in violence until the cottage fairly shook from the fury of the wind. There was much thunder and lightning, with some crashing in the woods close at hand, that caused both Baxter and Dick to start in alarm.

  Dick was doing his best to free himself and at last managed to get one hand loose.

  He had already found that to attempt forcing the door was useless. Now he tried the walls of the closet and then the flooring and the ceiling.

  He was much gratified to find that the boards of the ceiling were not fastened down. With a great effort he managed to raise himself and after a minute of hard work found himself in the tiny loft of the cottage. Here the patter of the rain was strong and the water was leaking in everywhere.

  “I’ll have to drop to the ground and run for it,” he told himself, and crawled to where there was a tiny window just large enough to admit the passage of his body.