The Rover Boys Megapack

by Edward Stratemeyer

  “So it does—with so much happening,” answered the eldest of the Rover boys.

  “Are we going home now?” asked Sam.

  “We’ll have to,” answered Tom. “We ought to be at our studies this minute.”

  “Yes, because you love study so!” cried Nellie, mischievously.

  Two days later found them on a river steamer that was to take them up the Mississippi as far as St. Louis, where they were to take the Limited Express for New York.

  “Well, I suppose our good times and our adventures are over now,” said Sam. But he was mistaken. Good times and strange adventures still awaited them, and what some of these were will be told in the next volume of this series, to be entitled “The Rover Boys on the Farm; or, Last Days at Putnam Hall.”

  The whole party remained in St. Louis one day. Then they sped eastward on the Limited, and the following evening found them on their way to Valley Brook farm, the Stanhopes and Lanings having decided to stop off there for at least a day or two.

  “It will feel fine to get home again,” said Sam, as the train rolled into the Oak Run station. “Hurrah! here we are at last!”

  “And there are father, Aunt Martha, and Uncle Randolph to meet us!” exclaimed Tom.

  “Hullo, everybody!” called out Dick, and tumbled out of the train, to kiss his aunt and shake hands all around. “Home again, and glad of it!”

  “And we are glad to see you all!” answered his father. And then there was general rejoicing, and here we will take our leave.

  THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM

  CHAPTER I

  SOMETHING ABOUT THE ROVER BOYS

  “Sam, this isn’t the path.”

  “I know it, Tom.”

  “We’ve missed our way,” went on Tom Rover, with a serious look on his usually sunny face.

  “It looks that way to me,” answered Sam Rover, his younger brother. “I think we made a wrong turn after we slid down the cliff.”

  “What is keeping Dick?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s call to him,” went on Tom, and set up a loud cry, in which his brother joined. The pair listened intently, but no answer came back.

  “I don’t like this,” said Sam, an anxious look in his clear eyes. “Maybe Dick is in trouble.”

  “Perhaps so,” answered Tom Rover.

  The two boys were far up on a mountainside, and all around them were tall trees, thick brushwood, and immense ridges of rocks. It had been a clear, sunshiny day, but now the sky was overcast, and it looked like rain.

  “We’ve got to go back for Dick,” said Tom, after a painful pause. “No use of going on without him.”

  “I hope he hasn’t fallen over some cliff and hurt himself,” returned his younger brother.

  “I don’t see why he doesn’t answer us, if he’s all right,” was the unsatisfactory reply. “Come on, or the storm will overtake us before we get down from the mountain and we’ll be soaked by the time we reach home.”

  Side by side the brothers retraced their steps—a hard task, for it is much easier to climb down a steep mountainside than to climb up.

  To those who have read the previous volumes in this “Rover Boys Series,” the two brothers just mentioned will need no special introduction. The Rover boys were three in number, Dick being the oldest, fun-loving Tom coming next, and Sam bringing up the rear. All were bright, lively, up-to-date lads, and honest and manly to the core. They lived on a farm called Valley Brook, in New York state,—a beautiful spot owned by their uncle, Randolph Rover, and his wife, Martha. Their father, Anderson Rover, also lived at the farm when at home, but he was away a great deal on business.

  From the farm the boys had been sent, some years before, to Putnam Hall, an ideal place of learning, of which we shall learn more as our tale proceeds. What the lads did there on their arrival has already been related in “The Rover Boys at School,” the first volume of this series.

  A short term at Putnam Hall was followed by a trip on the ocean, and then a long journey to the jungles of Africa, in search of Anderson Rover, who had disappeared. Then came a grand outing out west, and another outing on the great lakes, followed by some stirring adventures in the mountains of New York state.

  Coming from the mountains, the three youths had expected to go back to Putnam Hall at once, but fate ordained otherwise and they were cast away in the Pacific Ocean, as related in “The Rover Boys on Land and Sea.” They had a hard task of it getting home, and then returned to the school and had some splendid times while in camp with the other cadets.

  When vacation was once more at hand the boys soon solved the problem of what to do. Their Uncle Randolph had taken a houseboat for debt. The craft was located on the Ohio River, and it was resolved to make a trip down the Mississippi.

  “It will be the best ever!” Tom declared, and they started with much enthusiasm, taking with them “Songbird” Powell, a school chum addicted to the making of doggerel which he called poetry, Fred Garrison, a plucky boy who had stood by them through thick and thin, and Hans Mueller, a German youth who was still struggling with the mysteries of the English tongue. With the boys went an old friend, Mrs. Stanhope, and her sister, Mrs. Laning. With Mrs. Stanhope was her only daughter Dora, whom Dick Rover considered the sweetest girl in the whole world, and Mrs. Laning had with her two daughters, Grace and Nellie, especial friends of Sam and Dick.

  The trip on the houseboat proved a long and eventful one, and during that time the boys and their company fell in with Dan Baxter, Lew Flapp and several other enemies. On the Mississippi the craft was damaged, and while it was being repaired the party took a trip inland, as related in “The Rover Boys on the Plains.” Then the houseboat was stolen, and what this led to has been related in detail in “The Rover Boys in Southern Waters.” In that volume they brought to book several of the rascals who had annoyed them, and they caused Dan Baxter to feel so ashamed of himself that the bully made up his mind to reform.

  Tired out from their long trip, the Rover boys were glad enough to get back home again. For nearly a week their friends remained with them at Valley Brook farm and then they departed, the Stanhopes and Lanings for their homes and Fred, Hans and Songbird for Putnam Hall.

  “Of course you’re coming back to the Hall?” Fred had said on leaving.

  “Coming back?” had been Tom’s answer. “Why, you couldn’t keep us away with a Gatling gun!”

  “To be sure we’ll be back,” answered Dick Rover.

  “And we’ll have the greatest times ever,” chimed in Sam. “I am fairly aching to see the dear old school again.”

  “And Captain Putnam, and all the rest,” continued Tom.

  “And have some fun, eh, Tom?” and Sam poked his fun-loving brother in the ribs.

  “Well, when we go back we’ve got to do some studying,” Dick had put in. “Do you know what father said yesterday?”

  “No, what?” came simultaneously from his brothers.

  “He said we were getting too old to go to Putnam Hall—that we ought to be thinking of going to college, or of getting into business.”

  “Hum!” murmured Tom, and he became suddenly thoughtful.

  “I know why he said that,” said Sam, with a wink at his big brother. “He knows how sweet Dick is on Dora, and—”

  “Hi! you let up!” cried Dick, his face reddening. “It wasn’t that at all. We are getting pretty old for Putnam Hall, and you know it.”

  “It seems I’d never want to leave the dear old school,” murmured Tom. “Why, it’s like a second home to us. Think of all the jolly times we’ve had there—and the host of friends we’ve made.”

  “And the enemies,” added Sam. “Don’t forget them, or they may feel slighted.”

  “Dan Baxter was our worst enemy in that school, and he is going to reform, Sam.”

  “Perhaps. I won’t
feel sure of it until I really see it,” answered the youngest Rover.

  “By the way, I got a postal from Dan today,” said Dick. “He is in Philadelphia, and working for a carpet manufacturer.”

  “Well, if he’s gone to work, that’s a good sign,” said Tom.

  On their arrival at the farm the boys had been met by their father, but now Anderson Rover had gone away on a business trip which was to last for several days. As usual, he left the lads in charge of his brother and the boys’ aunt.

  “Now just take it easy for awhile,” was Mr. Rover’s advice, on leaving. “Rest up all you can, and then, when you go back to the school, you’ll feel as bright as a dollar.”

  “Silver or paper, dad?” asked Tom, mischievously.

  “Now, Tom—”

  “Oh, I know what you mean, dad, and I’ll be as quiet as a mule with a sandbag tied to his tail,” answered the fun-loving offspring.

  The day after Anderson Rover’s departure from the farm was quiet enough, but on the morning following the boys’ uncle received a letter in the mail which seemed to trouble him not a little.

  “I must attend to this matter without delay,” said Randolph Rover to his wife.

  “What is wrong, Randolph?”

  “I don’t think I can explain to you, Martha. It’s about those traction company bonds I purchased a few months ago.”

  “Those you paid ten thousand dollars for?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about them?”

  “As I said before, I can’t explain—it is rather a complicated affair.”

  “They are yours, aren’t they, Randolph?”

  “Oh, yes. But—”

  “Aren’t they worth what you gave for them?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Can’t you find out and make sure?”

  “That is what I am going to do,” replied Randolph Rover, and heaved a deep sigh. As my old readers know, he was a very retired individual, given to scientific research, especially in regard to farming, and knew little about business.

  “If you’ve been swindled in any way, you must go after the men who sold you the bonds,” said Mrs. Rover. “We cannot afford to lose so much money.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve been swindled—at least, if I have, I think the party who sold me the bonds will make them good, Martha. I’ll know all about it tomorrow,” answered Randolph Rover, and there the conversation came to an end.

  CHAPTER II

  WHAT HAPPENED ON THE MOUNTAIN

  It was on the day that Randolph Rover was to go to the town of Carwell, fifteen miles away, to see about the bonds, that the three Rover boys planned for a day’s outing.

  “Let us go to the top of Chase Mountain,” suggested Sam. “I haven’t been up there for three years.”

  “Second the suggestion,” replied Tom. “We can take a lunch along and make a day of it,” and so it was arranged.

  Chase Mountain was about three miles away, on the other side of Humpback Falls, where Sam had once had such a stirring adventure, as told in detail in “The Rover Boys at School.” It was a ragged eminence, and from the top a view could be had of the country for many miles around.

  The day seemed to be a perfect one when the three youths started, and when they reached the top of the mountain they enjoyed the vast panorama spread before them. They likewise enjoyed the substantial lunch their Aunt Martha had provided, and ate until Tom was ready to “bust his buttons,” as he expressed it.

  “Let us try a new path down,” said Sam, when it came time to go home, and he and Tom led the way, over a series of rocky ridges and cliffs anything but easy to traverse. In some places they had to drop ten and fifteen feet, and once Tom came down on his ankle in a manner that made him cry with pain.

  “You look out for yourself,” warned Dick. “If you sprain an ankle up here we’ll have a job of it getting you home.”

  “No sprained ankle for mine, thank you,” replied Tom. And he was more careful after that.

  As Dick came after his brothers he saw something peculiar at one side of the path he was pursuing. It appeared to be a tin lunch box suspended from a tree limb by a bit of wire. The box was painted red and seemed to be new.

  “That’s strange,” said the eldest Rover boy to himself. “Who would leave such a thing as that in that position? I’ll have to investigate.”

  Without telling Sam and Tom what he was going to do, Dick left the path and plunged into the bushes which grew between himself and the tree from which the tin box was suspended. Among the bushes the footing was uncertain, and hardly had he taken a dozen steps when he felt himself sinking.

  “Hi! this won’t do!” he cried in alarm, and then plunged down into a big hole, some bushes, moss and dead leaves coming down on top of him.

  In the meantime, Sam and Tom had gone on. Coming to where the path appeared to divide, they turned to the right, only to find, five minutes later, that they had made a mistake.

  “Where in the world can Dick be?” murmured Sam, after he and his brother had called again. “I thought he was right behind us.”

  “So did I, Sam. It’s mighty queer what’s become of him. If he fell over a cliff—” Tom did not finish, but heaved a deep sigh.

  With anxious hearts the two boys endeavored to retrace their steps up the mountainside. They had to climb up one of the cliffs, and just as this was accomplished it began to rain.

  “More bad luck,” grumbled Sam. “If this keeps on we’ll soon be soaked.”

  “Spit, spat, spo! Where did that mountain path go!” cried Tom, repeating a doggerel often used by children. “Dick! Dick!” he yelled, at the top of his lungs. Then Sam joined in the call once again. But as before, there was no answer.

  It must be confessed that the two Rover boys were now thoroughly alarmed. As they had climbed up the mountainside they knew they must be close to the spot where they had last seen Dick. What had become of their big brother?

  “Tom, do you think he could have fallen over some cliff and rolled to the bottom of the mountain?” questioned Sam, anxiously.

  “How could he roll to the bottom with the trees so thick? He would have plenty of chance to catch hold of one of them.”

  “Not if he was knocked unconscious.”

  “Well, where can he be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  It was now raining steadily, and to protect themselves the two boys pulled their caps well down over their heads and turned up their coat collars. They came to a halt under the wide-spreading branches of a hemlock tree.

  “It beats the nation, that’s what it does,” declared Tom. “Maybe the earth opened and swallowed him up!”

  “Tom, this is no joke.”

  “And I’m not joking, Sam. I can’t understand it at all.”

  “Is that the path over yonder?” continued the youngest Rover, pointing to a spot beyond the opposite side of the hemlock tree.

  “It looks a little like it,” was Tom’s reply. “Might as well go over and make sure.”

  Leaving the shelter of the tree, they made their way through the bushes, which were now beginning to drip from the rain. As they progressed Sam pushed a big branch from him and let it swing back suddenly, thereby catching Tom full in the face.

  “Wow!” spluttered the fun-loving Rover, as he staggered back. “Hi! Sam, do you think I need a shower bath? I’m wet enough already.” And Tom commenced to brush the water from his face.

  “I didn’t mean to let it slip,” answered Sam. “But say—”

  What Sam was going to say further will never be known, for just then he felt himself slipping down into some sort of a hole. He tried to leap back, and made a clutch at Tom’s legs, and the next instant both rolled over and over and shot downward, out of the daylight into utter darkness.

  They were taken so completely
by surprise that neither said a word. Over and over they went, a shower of dirt, sticks and dead leaves coming after them. Then they brought up on a big pile of decayed leaves and lay there, the breath all but knocked out of them.

  “Wha—what—where are we?” gasped Sam, when he felt able to speak.

  “Say, is thi—this a ne—new shoot-the—the—chutes?” asked Tom who was bound to have his fun no matter what occurred.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think I am, but I reckon my liver turned over about ten times. How about you?”

  “Shook up, that’s all,” answered Sam, after rising to his feet. “Say, we came down in a hurry, didn’t we?”

  “Yes, and got no return ticket either.” Tom looked upward. “Gracious! the top of this hole is about fifty feet away! We are lucky that we didn’t break our necks!”

  “Now we are down here, the question is, How do we get out, Tom?”

  “Don’t ask me any conundrums.”

  “We’ve got to get out somehow.”

  “Unless we want to stay here and save the expense of a cemetery lot.”

  “Tom!”

  “Oh, I know it’s no joke, Sam. But what is there to do? Here’s a hole at least fifty feet deep and the sides are almost perpendicular. Do you think we can climb up? I am afraid, if we try it, we’ll end by breaking our necks.”

  “It certainly is steep,” answered the youngest brother, looking upward. “Say!” he added, suddenly, “do you suppose Dick went down in some such hole as this?”

  “Perhaps; where there is one hole there may be more. If he went down let us hope he didn’t get killed.”

  As well as they were able, the two boys gazed around them. The hole was irregular in form, but about fifteen feet in diameter. One side was of rough rocks and the other dirt and tree roots. At the top the treacherous bushes overhung all sides of the opening, partly concealing the yawning pit below.

  “The rain is coming in pretty lively,” was Sam’s comment, presently. “I wonder if there is any danger of this hole filling up with water.”

  “I don’t think so, but if it does we can swim out.”