The Rover Boys Megapack

by Edward Stratemeyer

  Tom had been sitting quietly for five minutes, thinking matters over, when a side door opened and a young man smoking a cigarette came in. On seeing Tom, he stared in wonder and allowed his cigarette to drop to the floor.

  “Tom Rover! How did you get here?”

  It was Dan Baxter, as impudent and hard-faced as ever. He came a step closer and fairly glared at Tom.

  For one brief instant, Tom’s self-possession deserted him. Then he recovered and stared boldly at Baxter.

  “Say, what you a-talkin’ about?” he drawled.

  “Eh?”

  “What you a-talkin’ about? I don’t know you—never see you before.”

  “Well, if that ain’t the limit!” burst out the bully. “You don’t know me!”

  “An’ my name ain’t Tim Drover,” went on Tom, purposely mispronouncing the name.

  “Go to grass, Tom Rover! You can’t play any game on me. I know you too well, even in that outfit.”

  At that moment Sack Todd returned. He was surprised to find Dan Baxter talking to Tom.

  “Do you know Bud Cashaw?” he questioned.

  “Bud Cashaw? Who is he?”

  “This is Bud.”

  “Not much! Do you know who this is? Tom Rover, the brother I was telling you about.”

  “Tom Rover!” almost shouted the owner of Red Rock ranch. “Are you certain of this?”

  “Yes. Didn’t I go to school with him? I know him as well as I know my own father.”

  Sack Todd glared at Tom and gave him a close inspection. Then he shook the youth fiercely.

  “So this is your style, eh?” he snarled. “First your brothers come to spy on us, and now you! If I had my way—” he stopped short. “Where did you get that letter, answer me!”

  “Wasn’t it all right?” drawled Tom. He scarcely knew how to act.

  “Answer me, Rover. I want no more beating about the bush.”

  “It belongs to Bill Cashaw. Isn’t he here?”

  “Ha!” Sack Todd looked around. “Come here,” he cried to his men. “Watch this boy and don’t let him get away under any circumstances. I must find Bill Cashaw! Perhaps it isn’t Bill, after all!”

  One of the men came forward and caught hold of Tom, while Dan Baxter also ranged by the prisoner’s side. To attempt to break away would have been useless, and Tom did not try it.

  “You’ll catch it now,” said the bully maliciously.

  “Where are Sam and Dick?”

  “That remains for you to find out.”

  “They seem to carry things with a high hand here.”

  “It’s Sack Todd’s ranch, and he has a right to do as he pleases. He didn’t invite you or the others to come,” returned Dan Baxter with a scowl.

  In the meantime, the owner of Red Rock ranch was hurrying around in search of the supposed Bill Cashaw. He visited the kitchen and the other rooms, and then ran to the barn and other outbuildings. But it was all useless; the driver of the wagon could not be found.

  “I want all of you to hunt for the wagon driver,” stormed the ranch owner. “He must be found!”

  “What’s wrong now?” asked Andy Jimson.

  “Everything. I’ve just got a warning. Read it.”

  The long-nosed man did so, and drew down the corners of his mouth.

  “This looks bad,” he said. “Well, you’ve got the three Rovers right enough. You think—”

  “That wagon driver may not be Bill Cashaw at all.”

  “Worse and worse, Sack. We must find him, by all means.”

  The search was taken up with renewed care, and four men kept at it for over an hour. Then the crowd assembled in the main room of the ranch.

  “He has run away and left the horses and wagon behind,” said Sack Todd.

  “I thought he acted rather queer,” put in one of the men. “I asked him about Cal Jessup, and he didn’t seem to want to answer.”

  “He was a spy—there is not the least doubt of it,” came from Andy Jimson. “More than likely, he was a government detective.”

  While the men were talking the matter over, there was the sound of hoof strokes on the road leading to the ranch door, and a horseman came up, nearly out of breath from hard riding.

  “What’s the news, Phil?” shouted Sack Todd. “Nothing wrong, I hope.”

  “Snapper has been arrested and a detective is on your trail,” shouted back the horseman. “I was afraid I’d be too late. You want to get ready to vamoose.”

  The men of the ranch crowded around the new-comer and plied him with questions. Tom tried to catch all that was said, but was unable to do so.

  “We’ll have to make short work of this, I am afraid,” he heard Sack Todd say, a little later.

  “What about the boy?” questioned the long-nosed man.

  “He ought to be shot!” was the cold-blooded reply, which made Tom shiver.

  “Shall we put him with the rest?”

  “Yes.”

  Without ceremony, poor Tom was marched away to the trap-door, a man on each side of him. Dan Baxter came behind.

  “You don’t like it, do you?” sneered the bully. “You’ll like it still less when you get below. It’s beautifully damp and musty.”

  “You’re a cheerful brute, Dan,” answered Tom.

  “Hi! don’t you call me a brute!” stormed Baxter.

  “Oh, excuse me, I didn’t mean to insult the dumb creation,” responded Tom. “Baxter, you are the limit. I suppose you have joined this gang.”

  “What if I have?”

  “I am sorry for you, that’s all.”

  “Oh, don’t preach!”

  “I am not going to, for it would be a waste of breath.”

  “You’ll sing pretty small by the time we are through with you,” growled the bully; and then Tom was led below and placed in the cell with the others.

  CHAPTER XXVI

  TOGETHER ONCE MORE

  “Tom!”

  “Dick and Sam!”

  “How in the world did you get here?”

  “Where are the others?”

  These and a dozen other questions were asked and answered as the three Rover boys shook hands over and over again. Even though prisoners, they were delighted to be together once more, and doubly delighted to know that each was well.

  “Oh, these chaps are first-class rascals,” said Dick after they had settled down a bit. “They have treated us most shamefully. At first, they gave us pretty good eating, but now they are starving us.”

  “Starving you?” cried Tom.

  “Yes—they want us to tell all we know,” put in Sam. “They are very suspicious.”

  “Didn’t you try to get away?”

  “No use of trying. The walls are too solid and so is the door,” said Dick. He caught Tom by the arm and added in a faint whisper in his brother’s ear: “They are listening. We have a hole.”

  “Then we’ll have to stay here,” said Tom loudly, catching his cue instantly.

  “Yes, and it’s a shame,” added Sam in an equally loud voice. “I suppose the others have gone on?”

  “Certainly,” said Tom calmly. “I was a chump to remain behind—only I wanted to find you. I got hold of a letter by accident.”

  A moment later, they heard the guards walk away, and then Tom told the truth about the letter, and Sam and Dick led him to the hole in the wall.

  “It is not quite big enough to use, yet,” whispered the eldest Rover. “But we hope to have it big enough by to-morrow. It’s slow work, when you have got to be on your guard all the while.”

  “I’d like to know what became of the detective,” returned Tom.

  “He must have run away as soon as he saw how affairs were shaping,” put in Dick. “I hope he rounds up the whole gang.”

  �
�So do I, and Dan Baxter with them,” answered Tom.

  Overhead, they could hear a constant tramping of feet and murmur of voices. They tried to make out what was being said, but could not.

  Left to themselves, the three Rovers turned to the opening that had been made in the wall. A match was lit for a moment, so that Tom could see just what had been done, and then all three set to work to continue the task. It was certainly hard work, and their progress was exasperatingly slow.

  “If we only had a pick or a crowbar we could get these stones out in no time,” grunted Tom, as he pulled away with all his strength.

  The noise overhead continued, and a little later they heard some men come down in another portion of the cellar.

  “We must save the plates, at all events,” they heard Sack Todd say. “We can’t duplicate them, now old Messmer is dead.”

  “Yes, save the plates, by all means,” put in Andy Jimson.

  “Do you think the ranch is surrounded?” asked another of the crowd.

  “It may be.”

  “Then the sooner we get out, the better,” growled another.

  The men passed on, so that the Rover boys could not hear more of the talk.

  “I believe they are going to leave the place,” whispered Sam excitedly.

  “If they go, what will they do with us?” put in Tom.

  “Perhaps they will force us to go with them,” answered Dick.

  There was now more bustle and confusion about the ranch, and they heard a wagon drive up to a door, load up and drive away again. Then some horses were brought up from the stable.

  “Something is doing, that is certain,” murmured Dick.

  He had scarcely spoken when there was a movement at the door of the cell and, by the light of a lantern, the boys found themselves confronted by Sack Todd, Andy Jimson and Dan Baxter.

  “So you think the youngest is the best to take along,” said Sack Todd to Baxter.

  “Yes; the family think more of him than of any one,” answered the bully.

  “All right. Sam Rover, come out of that!”

  “What do you want me for?” asked the youngest Rover.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  Sam walked from the cell, and the door was at once fastened as before. Then Sack Todd caught the youth by the arm.

  “Now, march upstairs, and be lively about it. We have no time to waste.”

  “But—”

  “No ‘buts’ now, Rover. We’ll talk later on,” growled the ranch owner savagely. “Just now I’ve got my mind full of other things.”

  Sam was led to the main floor of the ranch, and then without ado his hands were fastened behind him. Then he was told to march outside. Here two light wagons were in waiting, and he was bundled into one, along with Jimson and another man, and Dan Baxter. The other wagon was loaded with boxes and driven by two men. Several horses stood by, saddled for use.

  “Where are we going?” asked the youngest Rover.

  “To the North Pole,” chuckled Dan Baxter. “Don’t you wish you knew!”

  “Are all the men going to leave?”

  “That’s their business, not yours.”

  “You are very kind, Baxter. I guess you don’t know yourself.”

  “Don’t I, though? Why, I’m right hand-and-hand with this crowd,” added the bully boastfully.

  “Maybe you only think you are.”

  “Huh! I know what I am doing.”

  “You’ve said that before—and got tripped up, just the same.”

  “There won’t be any trip-up about this.”

  “Don’t be too sure.”

  “See here,” spoke up Andy Jimson. “When we get on the road, all of you have got to keep quiet.”

  “All right, mum’s the world, old man,” answered Dan Baxter cheerfully.

  “Did you hear?” demanded the long-nosed man, looking at Sam.

  “I did.”

  “Are you going to mind?”

  “I am not your slave.”

  “Humph! Do you know what Todd said to me? He said: ‘If the kid won’t keep quiet when you tell him, shoot him.’ How do you like that?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “I am going to run no chances with you,” continued Andy Jimson. “You have got to keep very quiet. Don’t you open your mouth once after we get started. I’ve got a pistol handy, and I know how to use it.”

  In the meantime, several from the ranch were walking around, talking in low, excited tones. Then, from a distance, came a shot, followed by two more in rapid succession.

  “The signal!” cried Sack Todd. “Boys, something is doing now, sure. We must get away, and at once. Are you all ready?”

  There was a chorus of assents.

  “I think we had better divide. The wagons can go by the honey-tree route, and those on horseback by the swamp road. We can meet at the Four Rocks tomorrow, if all goes well.”

  So it was agreed, and soon some of the horsemen were off, each carrying a load of some kind. Then the wagons began to move, that with the load of boxes going first. The turnouts plunged at once into the woods, where the darkness was intense. They made scarcely any noise, for the wagons were rubber-tired and the horses wore rubber guards on their shoes.

  It would be hard to analyze Sam’s feelings as he realized that he was being taken away from the ranch, he knew not to where. To escape in the darkness was out of the question, for the man who sat beside him had his arm linked into his own. More than this, he felt sure that Andy Jimson would shoot him at the first sign of trouble.

  The wagon road wound around in the forest, and was in anything but good repair, so that poor Sam was jounced about until he felt sore all over. He did not dare to speak, and, truth to tell, he did not know what to say. He realized that if he asked what was to become of his brothers, nobody would tell him.

  Presently the wagon began to climb a slight hill. The horses tugged away manfully, but were exhausted when the top of the rise was gained, and had to rest.

  “Hullo, what’s that?” exclaimed Dan Baxter as he gazed back in the direction of the ranch.

  “Shut up,” answered the long-nosed man warningly.

  Sam could not help but look back. The top of the rise was almost bare of trees, so his view was a perfect one. The sight that met his gaze caused his heart to sink with a sickening dread.

  Red Rock ranch was in flames!

  “Tom and Dick!” he murmured to himself. “If they are still prisoners, what will become of them?”

  CHAPTER XXVII

  THE BURNING OF THE RANCH

  Left to themselves, Tom and Dick scarcely knew what to do for the time being. What was to become of Sam they did not know, but they felt that the outlook was darker than ever.

  “Dick, we must get out!” cried Tom at length. “I can’t stand this sort of thing.”

  “I can’t stand it myself. But how are we going to get out? That door is like the wall, for strength.”

  There was more noise overhead, but presently this ceased, and all became as quiet as a tomb.

  “What do you make of it, now?” came from the fun-loving Rover.

  “I think they have left the ranch, Tom.”

  “Left—for good?”

  “Perhaps. They know that James Monday will make it warm for them. That letter put them on their guard.”

  “What a fool I was to deliver it, Dick! I ought to be kicked for doing it. If we had only opened it and read it!”

  “The others must still be on the watch.”

  “Yes, unless they, too, have been captured.”

  The boys returned to the hole in the wall and, to occupy themselves, dug away at it harder than ever. Another stone was loosened and pulled into the cell.

  “We’re making a little progress, anyway,” sighed T
om.

  “Hark! I hear something,” said Dick a little later. “Listen!”

  They stopped their work and both strained their ears. A curious roaring and crackling came from overhead.

  “That’s odd,” mused Tom. “What do you make of it?”

  “I am almost afraid to say, Tom.”

  “Afraid?”

  “Yes. If it is what I think, we may be doomed,” went on the eldest Rover seriously.

  “Dick! What do you think it is?”

  “The crackling of flames. They have set the ranch on fire.”

  “Would they do that—and leave us here? It is—is inhuman.”

  “Those men are desperate characters, Tom, and they’d stop at nothing.”

  They continued to listen, and soon the roaring and crackling grew plainer. Then came a dull thud as some timbers fell, and a current of air carried some smoke into the cell.

  “We must get out—somehow, some way!” cried Dick. “If we don’t, we’ll be caught like beasts in a cage.” A sudden thought struck him. “Tom, take up one of the stones.”

  Dick lit what was left of the candle-wick as he spoke and placed it on the bench. Then he took up the other stone.

  “Now, aim for the lock of the door,” he went on, “and both throw together. Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “One, two, three!”

  Crash! Both large stones hit the door with tremendous force. The barrier was split from end to end, but still held firm.

  “Again!” cried Dick, and once more the stones were hurled in mad desperation. There was an-other crash, and the door tottered and came away from the lock. Then Tom threw his weight against it and it burst open fully.

  A rush of hot air and smoke greeted them as they leaped into the passageway. Looking up, they saw that the flooring above was already burning.

  “We can’t go up through the trap-door,” said Dick. “We have got to find some other way out.”

  “Is there another way?”

  “I don’t know. Come.”

  The passageway ran in both directions. They felt their way along for ten feet, to find themselves against another wall.

  “The other way!” sang out Tom. “Phew! it’s getting pretty warm down here, isn’t it?”