m B. Schlemp uggist. ain St.
“That is from a druggist,” said Dick.
“Exactly. I figure out the name is William B. Schlemp, that he is a druggist, and that he is doing business at some number on Main Street,” came from Tom. “But I figure out more than that.”
“What?”
“The paper was crumpled up, and had in it a few grains of a gray powder. I set the powder on fire and got that strange vapor that almost strangled us.”
“You did!” cried Sam. “Then that stuff came from that druggist beyond a doubt.”
“So I figure it. But there is no druggist named Schlemp here,” went on Tom, “and the druggist here doesn’t know of such a fellow.”
“I know what we can do,” cried Dick. “Don’t you remember, Dan Baxter said he had worked for a wholesale drug house? We can telegraph and ask him if he knows of this Schlemp.”
“Then let us do it at once,” said Tom. “I have his route—the one he said he was to follow.”
A few minutes later the following message was being flashed over the wires to Dan Baxter, then supposed to be located at Detroit:
“Send full name and address of Blank B. Schlemp, druggist, at once. Highly important.
“Thomas Rover,
“Ashton Hotel,”
“That was about all I found at the haunted house that was important,” said Tom after the message had gone. “But I’ve found out something here that may lead to something else of value.”
“What is that?” questioned Sam.
“There is a fellow hanging around here named Henry Parwick. He is rather dissipated, and does not seem to work for a living. One night this Parwick had been drinking pretty freely, and he got into a quarrel with one of his companions. They taunted each other about money, and Parwick said he had some good friends up to Brill who would give him all the cash he wanted. The other fellow wanted to know that was, and Parwick winked one eye and answered, ‘Oh, there’s a reason, Buddy, a good reason. They wouldn’t dare to refuse me.’ Since that time I have seen Parwick talking to Jerry Koswell and Bart Larkspur.”
“Do you think this Parwick helped Koswell and the others in a plot against us?” asked Dick.
“It may be so. Anyway, I think Parwick has some kind of a hold on Koswell, for I saw Jerry give him some money.”
“This is certainly interesting,” mused Dick. “Do you suppose we could corner this Parwick and get him to talk?”
“We might, but I have another plan.”
“What is that?”
“To watch Parwick, and follow him when I think he is going to meet Koswell and the others. I may be able to overhear their talk.”
“Good!”
After that Dick and Sam told Tom of what had occurred at the college since their brother had left. Sam was just relating the particulars of a stormy interview with Professor Sharp when Dick uttered a cry.
“Look! Here comes Dora, and she is running!”
One after another the brothers ran down to the ground floor of the hotel and hurried outside.
“Oh, I am so glad I found you all together!” cried Dora, panting for breath. “Come quick!”
“Where to?” queried Dick.
“Down the road about half a mile. We just saw that Jerry Koswell and Bart Larkspur, and they are having a quarrel with a man who acts as if he was half intoxicated.”
“It must be Henry Parwick!” ejaculated Tom.
“Yes, his name is Parwick,” said Dora. “We heard Koswell mention it.”
“Where are they?” asked Sam as the whole party hurried down the main street and out of Ashton, Dora leading the way.
“They are at a cottage where an old woman named Brice lives. We were going to stop for a drink of water when we heard voices, and saw the young men. Then Nellie and Grace heard them mention you, and they asked me to come here and get you just as quickly as possible. They said they would remain, and, if possible, hear what it was all about.”
“I think we are on the right track!” cried Dick joyfully. “Maybe matters will come to a head quicker than we imagined.”
“Dick, you stay with Dora!” cried Tom. “Come on, Sam!” And off the two brothers sped at top speed, leaving Dick and Dora to follow as rapidly as the strength of the girl would permit.
Curiosity lent strength to the legs of the two Rovers, and they covered the distance to the Brice cottage in an incredibly short space of time. As they came into view they beheld Grace watching for them. She held up her hand for caution. She was standing in among some bushes by the roadside.
“Be careful, or those wicked boys will see you!” she cried in a low voice. “They are back of the cottage, near the barn.”
“Where is Nellie?” asked Tom.
“She is watching them.”
“Have you learned anything?” asked Sam.
“Yes, indeed. We have learned that Koswell, Larkspur and Flockley were guilty of this plot against you, and that a man named Parwick aided them by getting a strange powder for them, the powder that made you dizzy and sick,” were Grace’s words, and they filled the Rovers with much satisfaction.
CHAPTER XXX
A BEGINNING AND AN ENDING
“It was Allan Charter’s coming that clinched matters,” said Tom. “Doctor Wallington might not have believed us, but he had to believe Charter.”
“He had to believe the girls, too,” added Dick. “He knew they would not tell him such falsehoods. But I am glad Charter came along. He hated to get mixed up in it, I know, but he acted the man about it, didn’t he?”
“Wonder what the doctor will do with Koswell & Company?” questioned Sam.
“Fire ’em, most likely, and they deserve to be fired,” growled Stanley. “Oh, when I think of the trick that was played I feel like wiping up the floor with every one of those scoundrels!”
“It was certainly a bit of dirty work,” was Dick’s comment.
The boys were seated in Sam and Tom’s room, talking it over. It was Sunday afternoon, and outside the sun shone brightly and a light breeze stirred the trees.
It had proved a strenuous Saturday afternoon and evening. Dick and Dora had come up, meeting Allan Charter, the leading senior of Brill, on the way. They had persuaded Charter to accompany them to the Brice cottage, and there all had witnessed a bitter quarrel between Henry Parwick and Koswell, Larkspur and Flockley. Parwick was semi-intoxicated, and in a maudlin way had exposed all that had been done at the haunted house. He had spoken about getting the powder for them, and mentioned how Koswell had fixed a fuse and lit it, and he told of getting the liquor bottles and flasks and other things. He had warmed up during his recital, and had demanded fifty dollars on the spot. When refused he had threatened to go to the Brill authorities and “blow everything.” Then Koswell had threatened, if this was done, that he would have Parwick arrested for robbing his former employer, William Schlemp. Then had come blows, and in the midst of this Charter had stepped forward and confronted the evildoers.
“We have seen and heard all,” he had said sternly. “I am a witness, and so are these young ladies. You, Koswell, Flockley and Larkspur, ought to be ashamed of yourselves. I never dreamed any students of Brill could be so bad. I shall report to Doctor Wallington without delay.”
Charter had been as good as his word, and had been closeted with the head of the college for an hour. The girls went back with Tom, Dick and Sam, and also had an interview with the president. Then Doctor Wallington sent for Flockley, Koswell and Larkspur. Only Flockley answered the summons, and it was learned that Koswell and Larkspur were afraid to come back, fearing arrest. Parwick had also disappeared. Then had come a telegram from Dan Baxter giving the address of the druggist, Schlemp. Word was sent to this man, and later he wrote that Parwick had once worked for him, but had been discharged for drunkenness and because he was not hones
t.
The interview between Doctor Wallington and Flockley was a most affecting one. The dudish student broke down utterly, and confessed all. He said Koswell had hatched out the plot, aided by Larkspur, and that he himself had been a more or less unwilling participant. He told much about Parwick, and how that dissolute fellow had spoken of having the strange powder, which was a Japanese concoction, and which, if used often, would render a person insane. He begged the good doctor to forgive him, and said he would be willing to do anything in order to remain at Brill.
“My father will never forgive me if I am dismissed,” he said in a broken voice.
“But supposing I had dismissed the Rovers and Stanley Browne?” asked the doctor severely.
“Yes, yes, I know, sir!” wailed Flockley. “But, oh, sir, don’t send me away! I’ll do anything if you’ll let me stay!”
“I will think it over,” answered the head of Brill shortly. And thus Flockley was dismissed from the office.
“It was certainly a wicked piece of work,” said Songbird to the others in the room. “I really think somebody ought to be arrested.”
Tom was about to speak when a footstep sounded in the hall, and a knock on the door followed. Sam opened the portal, to behold Flockley standing there, hat in hand. The dudish student was as white as the wall, his clothing looked dishevelled, and his shoes were un-blacked, a great contrast to the Flockley of old.
“What do you want?” asked Sam abruptly.
“I want—I want—” commenced Flockley brokenly. Then he stepped into the room and confronted Dick. “Oh, Rover!” he cried, “won’t you—won’t you please, please get Doctor Wallington to let me stay at Brill? Please don’t let him send me home! I’ll do anything—apologize, get down on my knees, if you like—but please help me to stay here!”
Flockley caught Dick by the arm and continued to plead, and then he entreated Sam, Tom, and Stanley, also. It was a truly affecting scene. They all commenced to speak. He had been so mean, wicked, so unlike a decent college fellow, how could they forgive him?
And then came a pause, and during that pause a distant church bell sounded out, full and clear, across the hills surrounding Brill. Dick listened, and so did his brothers and Stanley, and the anger in their faces died down.
“Well, I’m willing you should stay,” said Dick, “and I’ll speak to the doctor about it, if you wish.”
“And so will I,” added Sam and Tom, and Stanley nodded.
“But you ought to cut such fellows as Koswell and Larkspur,” said Tom.
“I will! I will!” said Flockley earnestly.
The Rovers and Stanley Browne were as good as their word. On the following day they had another interview with the head of the college and spoke of Flockley.
“Well, if you desire it, he can remain,” said Doctor Wallington. “As for Koswell and Larkspur, I doubt if they wish to return, since they have not yet shown themselves. You can prosecute them if you wish.”
“No, we don’t want to do that,” said Dick. “We have talked it over, and we think, for the honor of Brill, the least said the better.”
“That conclusion does you much credit, and I feel greatly relieved,” said the head of the college. He turned to Tom. “You are, of course, reinstated, Thomas, and I shall see to it that the marks placed against your name are wiped out. I sincerely trust that you and Professor Sharp will allow bygones to be bygones, and will make a new beginning.”
“I’m willing,” answered Tom. And a little later he entered one of the classrooms and he and Professor Sharp shook hands. After school Professor Blackie came up and shook hands all around.
“I am glad to know you are exonerated,” said that professor. “This has taught me a lesson, to take nothing for granted,” he added.
When the truth became known many of the students flocked around the Rovers and Stanley and Songbird, and congratulated them on the outcome of the affair. Flockley did not show himself for a long time, excepting at meals and during class hours.
“He feels his position keenly,” said Dick. “Well, I hope he turns over a new leaf.”
“A telegram for Richard Rover,” said one of the teachers to the boys a few days later.
“Wonder what’s up now?” mused Dick as he tore open the yellow envelope. He read the slip inside. “Hurrah! This is the best news yet!” he cried.
“What is it?” asked Tom and Sam.
“The injunction against the Stanhopes and the Lanings is dissolved by the court. They can keep the fortune. Tad Sobber has had his case thrown out of court!”
“Say, that’s great!” ejaculated Tom, and in the fullness of his spirits he turned a handspring.
“I reckon that’s the end of Mr. Tad Sobber,” said Sam. But the youngest Rover was mistaken. Though beaten in court, Sobber did not give up all idea of gaining possession of the fortune, and what he did next will be related in another volume, to be called “The Rover Boys Down East; Or, The Struggle for the Stanhope Fortune.” In that book we shall also meet Jerry Koswell and Bart Larkspur once more, and learn how they tried again to injure our friends.
But for the time being all went well, and the Rover boys were exceedingly happy. As soon as possible they met the girls and all spent a happy half day in taking another ride in an automobile. From Flockley they gradually learned how Koswell and Larkspur had done many mean things, including putting the glass in the roadway, and using the pencil box out of Tom’s dress-suit case.
“Vacation will soon be at hand,” cried Sam one day, “and then—”
“Well have the best time ever known,” finished Tom.
“Ah, vacation time,” put in Songbird. “I have composed some verses about that season. They run like this—”
“Not today, Songbird,” interrupted Dick. “I’ve got to bone away at my geometry.”
“Then hurry up, Dick,” said Sam. “I want you to come and play ball.”
“Ball it is—in half an hour,” answered Dick. “And then,” he added softly to himself, “then I guess I’ll write a good long letter to Dora.”
THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST
CHAPTER I
A GAME OF BASEBALL
“Hurrah! that’s the way to do it!”
“Now, then, Tom, see if you can’t bring Dick home!”
“Give him a swift one, Frank! Don’t let him hit it!” cried Sam Rover, merrily.
“I’ll knock it down into the river!” retorted Tom Rover, as he caught up a bat and walked to the home plate.
“I’m waiting for you, Tom!” sang out Dick Rover, who had just reached second base on a beautiful drive to right field. “Come now, it’s time we tied the score.”
“Everybody in the game!” yelled Stanley Browne, who was in the coacher’s box. “Here is where we do ’em up!”
“Get ready to run, Dick!” came from Songbird Powell. “Tom is going to land it on the other side of the river.”
“If he does that I’ll walk home,” answered Dick, with a grin.
“Now then, here is where Tom misses!” called out Sam, who was behind the bat, and he thumped his fist in his catcher’s mitt. “Give him a double-ender curve, Frank.”
“Oh, I’ll give him a regular corkscrew curl,” retorted Frank Holden, who occupied the pitcher’s box. “Tom, prepare to die!” And he drew back to pitch the ball.
Eighteen of the students of Brill College were having a game of baseball on the athletic field of that institution of learning. The regular season for baseball was at an end, and the youths had fixed up their nines to suit themselves, with Dick Rover as captain of one side and Frank Holden as captain on the other. On Dick’s side were his brother Tom, and a number of their chums, while Sam was doing the catching for Frank.
It was only a friendly contest and all of the students were in the best of spirits. The main examinations for the term were practical
ly over, and in a few days more the students were to scatter for the summer vacation.
It was the ending of the fourth inning and the score stood 6 to 4 in favor of Frank Holden’s nine. If Tom should manage to bring both Dick and himself in it would tie the score. But Tom was not known for his home-run qualities.
Frank Holden made a signal to Sam and then sent in a low, swift ball. Tom made a swing at it. But he was too slow.
“Strike one!” sang out Will Faley, the umpire. “Try it some more, Tom.”
Again the ball came in and this time Tom struck at it with all his might.
Crack! The ashen stick met the horsehide and the ball went whizzing off to the right of the home plate, in the direction of a number of students who were crossing the grounds.
“Foul!” sang out the umpire, as the sphere curved through the air.
“You can’t get it, Sam!” called out Max Spangler. “It’s too far off already!”
“Look out, you fellows!” yelled Frank, from the pitcher’s box. “If you don’t—”
Before he could finish the crowd walking across the grounds looked up and commenced to scatter, to give Sam a chance to catch the ball, which had gone quite high in the air. But before the youngest Rover could reach the sphere down it came—straight on the fancy straw hat of a dudish youth, crushing the article over its wearer’s head.
“Whoop! there’s a strike for you, Tom!” murmured Dick.
“Do you call that knocking the ball over the river?” demanded Songbird, dryly.
“Here’s a case where a straw shows how the ball blows,” misquoted Stanley Browne.
“Hi! hi! what do you mean by smashing my hat!” roared Dudd Flockley, the student who had been thus assaulted. “Who did this, I demand to know?”
“I knocked the ball—but I didn’t aim for your hat,” answered Tom. And as Dudd Flockley held up the damaged hat he could not help but grin.
“You did it on purpose, Tom Rover!” growled the dudish student. “You needn’t deny it!”
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 218
