“Father!” cried Sam and Tom, simultaneously, and rushed to embrace their parent.
“My boys!” murmured Anderson Rover, and the tears stood in his eyes. Never before had he realized how much they were to him.
“Come on—no time to talk now,” said Dick, in a low voice. “We’ll get away from here first.”
“But those rascals—” began Sam.
“We’ll take care of them, Sam, never fear.”
The boys led their father from the cellar and across the back yard to the barn. From the barn a lane ran to the main road. The lane had a hedge that practically hid it from the house.
“Wait here, in the barn,” said Dick. “But keep out of sight.”
“Where are you going?” asked Tom.
“To watch on the road for a wagon or an auto, to take us to the nearest town or railroad station.”
“Going to leave those men here, Dick?”
“Not much! I thought Sam might take dad back to New York, while you and I had it out with Crabtree and the others.”
“Good! I’m with you!” cried Tom.
Dick posted himself on the highway, and presently saw a covered wagon approaching, drawn by a spirited team. The driver was a young man, evidently from some nearby town.
“Going to town?” asked Dick, as he stopped the fellow.
“Yes, want a ride?” and the young man smiled.
“I don’t, but another fellow, my brother, and my father, do,” said Dick. “If you’ll take them, we’ll pay you.”
“All right,” was the answer. “Come right along.”
“How far is it to the railroad station?” went on Dick.
“About two miles.”
“Will you take ’em over?”
“Sure—I’m going there myself.”
Dick hurried back to the barn, and soon Sam and Mr. Rover were in the wagon. Before Sam left his big brother gave him some instructions in private. Then the wagon went on through the rain.
“Thank heaven! dad is safe!” murmured Tom, when the wagon had disappeared. “I hope Sam doesn’t let him out of his sight until those business affairs are settled up.”
“He is going to take him to the Outlook Hotel first,” answered Dick. “But he is going to do more than that, Tom—if it is possible.”
“What?”
“I told him to stop in that town and send some help here—a police official, or a constable, or some men. Crabtree has got to go back to jail, and I think we ought to have Pelter and Japson locked up, too—although that may depend upon what father may have to say.”
“Then we can’t do anything until somebody gets here from town,” said Tom, somewhat disappointedly.
“We can watch those rascals and listen to what they are talking about,” returned Dick.
Both boys returned to the barn, to get out of the rain. Then they sneaked to the cellar of the house and up to the kitchen, and then to a little storeroom next to the dining room. From the storeroom they could catch much of the conversation coming from the three men in the dining room.
There were some matters Dick and Tom did not understand. But from what was said they learned that Japson was a distant relative of Josiah Crabtree and the two had been in several shady transactions together. Crabtree had agreed, if aided in his escape from the Plankville jail, to assist the brokers in making Anderson Rover a prisoner and keeping him such until he signed certain documents and until the time had passed when he could no longer take up the options which were so valuable to the Rovers and their friends.
“Well, I think these documents are all right,” the boys heard Jesse Pelter say, presently. “Now we can turn them over to Belright Fogg and tell him to go ahead.”
The boys looked at each other in amazement. Belright Fogg! The lawyer who had tried to outwit them in their claim against the railroad company because of the smashed Dartaway! Was that fellow mixed up in this game also? It looked like it.
CHAPTER XXIV
FROM A GARRET WINDOW
“This is getting interesting!” whispered Tom.
“I should say so,” murmured Dick.
“That must have been what was bringing Belright Fogg down to New York City.”
“It looks like it.”
“Well, if he is mixed up in this he can get pinched with the rest of the rascals.”
“Right you are.”
After that the boys listened to more of the talk between the brokers and Josiah Crabtree. From what was said it was easy to guess that the plotters expected to make quite a large sum of money out of their evil doings.
“But you have got to get Rover’s signatures to those papers,” said Jesse Pelter.
“We’ll do it!” cried Josiah Crabtree. “Even if we have to starve him into it.”
“I hope those boys didn’t come after the schooner,” muttered Japson.
“I reckon Captain Rodney will know how to throw ’em off the scent,” returned Crabtree.
“We were lucky to find that automobile at the tavern,” went on Pelter.
Some more talk followed and then Japson exclaimed:
“Why can’t we make Rover sign those papers now? Maybe we can scare him into it.”
“We might try,” answered his partner, slowly.
The men arose and Japson lit a lantern, for he knew it was dark in the garret. Then, one behind the other, they filed out into the hallway and went upstairs.
“They are going to find out something pretty soon!” chuckled Tom.
“Come on, let us follow ’em, Tom,” answered his brother. “I’ve got a new idea.”
“What is it?”
“Perhaps we can lock ’em in that garret until help arrives.”
“Just the cheese, Dick! I remember there was a lock on the door,—and maybe we can fasten it in some other way, too—so they can’t break out.”
“They can’t get out by the windows—they are too high from the ground.”
By this time the three men were mounting the garret stairs. They had to pass around a pile of furniture to get to where Anderson Rover had been kept a prisoner.
“Quick now!” cried Dick, as the men disappeared from view. He closed the garret door and turned the key in the lock. “Get a chair or two, Tom, so we can wedge the door fast.”
Tom understood, and ran into a nearby room, to bring out a square table. The stairway to the garret ran from a right angle of the wall, so that the table could be stood up against the door, with the bottom of the four legs against the wall opposite. Some books chanced to be handy, and the lads were able to place these against the wall under the feet of the table legs, thus wedging the door fast.
“Now I reckon they’ll have their own job getting out!” cried Tom, grimly.
“Go to a front window and watch the road,” ordered his big brother. “If you see any help coming, call them.”
Tom at once departed, to station himself at the window of one of the front bed chambers. By this time a clattering of feet could be heard on the garret stairs.
“He has locked the door on us!” came a cry in Jesse Pelter’s voice.
“How did he get free?” asked Japson. “I thought we tied him good.”
“He cut the ropes!” cried Josiah Crabtree. “But how he got hold of his knife to do it, I can’t guess.”
Dick had to smile to himself. Evidently the rascals thought his father had liberated himself and turned the tables on them.
“Hi, Rover! Are you out there?” called Jesse Pelter. “If you are you had better unlock that door.”
To this call Dick did not answer.
“He must have run away!” exclaimed Japson. “Break the door down! We must catch him!”
“That’s the talk!” added Josiah Crabtree, in great excitement.
“Touch the door at your peril!
” cried Dick, sharply. “I am armed and I will stand no nonsense!”
“Who is that?” asked Japson.
“That wasn’t Rover’s voice,” added his partner.
“I think I know who that is,” answered Josiah Crabtree, and his voice commenced to tremble. “Dick Rover, is that you?” he called, faintly.
“Yes. Don’t you dare to touch that door, Crabtree,” replied Dick.
“Is it Dick Rover?” questioned Pelter.
“Yes.”
“Anderson Rover’s oldest son? The one who was in the rowboat with the others?”
“Yes.”
“Then we have been followed after all!” shouted Japson, hoarsely. “We have been trapped!”
“You’ve hit the nail on the head,” called out Dick. “Now, don’t touch that door, or it will be the worse for you.”
“Is he alone?” whispered Pelter.
“No, I am not alone!” answered Dick. “Hi, Tom, am I alone?” he called.
“Not much!” answered Tom. “We are all on deck here, and all armed. You just sit still and suck your thumbs until the officers come,” he added, dryly.
“The officers!” shrieked Josiah Crabtree, and was so overcome that he sank down on one of the steps of the stairs.
“See here, Dick Rover,” said Jesse Pelter, after a pause. “Let us see if we can’t—er—patch this up somehow.”
“You can do your patching-up after you are in jail, Mr. Pelter.”
“If you have me arrested, boy, you will be sorry for it!” growled the broker.
“We can ruin your family, and disgrace your father,” added Japson. “Better let us go and fix this up without the police.”
“No, I am going to have you locked up,” replied Dick, determinedly. “As to what charge will be brought against you, I’ll have to consult my father about that first.”
“You lock us up and you’ll get nothing out of us!” growled Japson. “We can ruin your family, and we’ll do it!”
“Can’t we get out another way?” asked Josiah Crabtree, in a whisper.
“I don’t think so,” said the owner of the house. “We can go up and look around.”
All returned to the garret floor and walked to one window and the other. The distance to the ground was all of twenty-five feet, too far for any of them to risk a drop.
“We might make a rope of these old blankets,” suggested Jesse Pelter. “Talk to Rover at the door while I try it.”
His partner went back to the door, while the others commenced to make a rope by tearing a blanket into strips and tying the ends together. The back window was raised and the rope lowered.
“Nobody in sight!” cried Crabtree, looking down. “Oh, I trust we can get away from them!” He saw a term in prison staring him in the face.
“Don’t lose any time!” cried Japson. “Here, tie the end fast to that old bed. Now let me get out!”
“I’ll go first!” cried Josiah Crabtree, and shoved the broker aside. With trembling hands he grasped the improvised rope and slipped out of the window.
In the meantime Dick commenced to suspect that all was not right and called to Tom.
“Go below and outside and look at those windows,” he said. “If they try to drop, shy some stones at ’em!”
“I will!” answered Tom, and ran down the stairs three steps at a time. He looked up at the front of the house but saw nothing unusual. Then he dashed to the rear.
“Hi! stop!” he called out, as he saw Josiah Crabtree dangling just under the garret window. “Get back there, or I’ll fire at you!” And looking around, Tom saw a sharp stone and picked it up.
As he did this there was a sudden tearing sound, and the blanket-rope parted at the point where it passed over the window sill. Josiah Crabtree uttered a wild yell of terror and clutched vainly at the sill and the clapboards under it. Then he came tumbling to the ground, doubling up in a heap as he did so. Tom expected him to arise and run, but he lay still where he had fallen.
“He’s hurt, seriously hurt!” muttered the youth. “Maybe he’s killed!”
CHAPTER XXV
WHAT HAPPENED TO TOM
Tom glanced up, to see the white face of Jesse Pelter peering down upon him.
“You had better let us out of this!” cried the broker, hoarsely.
“You stay where you are—if you know, what is best for you!” returned Tom.
“Is he dead?” went on the broker, referring to Crabtree.
“I don’t know.”
The youth ran up to the former school teacher and turned him over. As he did this Josiah Crabtree gave a gasp and a groan and opened his eyes.
“Oh! Oh! what a—a fa—fall!”
“If you hadn’t tried to get away it wouldn’t have happened,” returned Tom, briefly. He could have but little sympathy for such a hardened rascal.
Josiah Crabtree sat up and then tried to get to his feet. There was a cut on his forehead from which the blood was flowing.
“Oh! oh!” cried the man and put his hand to his left leg. It was twisted under him in a peculiar fashion. To get up on it was impossible, and Crabtree fell back with a cry of pain and fright.
“My leg! It is broken! Oh, what shall I do? Rover, please help me!” And the former teacher turned a look of genuine misery on Tom.
“Let me examine it,” said the boy, in a more kindly tone. He approached the man and felt of the injured limb. By the way it was doubled up Tom felt certain it must be broken, perhaps in two places.
“I don’t know what I can do,” said Tom. “I guess you need a doctor. I’ll carry you to the barn, if you say so—or into the house.”
“Can’t you—you—” began Josiah Crabtree, and then another look of pain crossed his face and he fainted.
Alarmed, Tom picked up the tall, thin form and carried the man into the house, for it was still raining, although not as hard as before. He placed Crabtree on an old couch in the sitting room and, getting some water, laid a wet cloth over his bruised and swelling forehead. Knowing but little about broken limbs, he did not attempt to do anything for the broken leg but placed that member out in a somewhat straight position. He called up to Dick and told his brother of what had happened.
“Keep the other fellows up there, Tom!” yelled back the big brother. “Don’t let ’em get away!”
At this Tom ran out of the house once more. With the fall of Crabtree had come the greater portion of the blanket-rope. Pelter had disappeared from the window, and evidently he and Japson were in consultation.
“See here, Rover, we want to talk to you!” called out the broker, reappearing at the window a minute later. “Call your brothers.”
“What do you want?”
“We want to fix matters up with you.”
“You can do that after you are in jail.”
“You’ll gain nothing by having us arrested.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“We have got the upper hand in those deals with your father and if you have us locked up we won’t let go—no matter what happens,” put in Japson.
“We’ll make you let go,” returned Tom, with determination. “You fellows have reached the end of your string, and the sooner you realize it the better it will be for you.”
“Bah! Do you think we’ll give up the things we have fought so hard to get? Not much!”
While Japson was speaking Pelter had stepped back into the garret. Now he came again to the window, at the same time whispering to his companion.
“Hello, Dixon!” he called, as if to somebody behind Tom.
As was but natural, the youth below turned quickly, thinking some friend of the broker’s had appeared. The moment Tom turned, Pelter hurled something down at him. It was an old wooden footstool, and it struck the youth squarely on the head. Down went poor Tom in the
grass, senseless.
“Now is our time!” exclaimed Pelter. “Quick, with that other rope!”
A second rope, also made from sections of a blanket—but stronger than the first—was produced. As the lower end struck the ground, Pelter commenced to slide down, closely followed by his partner. Evidently they were both willing to risk their lives in an effort to escape. The thought of going to jail filled them with grim terror.
Reaching the ground, neither of the men hesitated an instant over what to do next. The man who owned the place knew it thoroughly, and he turned in the direction of the barn, and his partner went after him. They crossed a back lot, and then, coming to a side road, took to that, running as fast as their wind and strength permitted.
In the meantime Dick, hearing Crabtree groaning, came down in the sitting room to look at the sufferer. The man was still flat on his back.
“Oh, my leg!” he groaned. “Oh my leg! Can’t you get a doctor?”
“Perhaps,—later on,” answered Dick.
“Oh, Rover, I never thought I would come to this!” whined the criminal. “Oh, the pain!”
“We’ll do what we can for you, Crabtree. You had better lie still for the present.”
Dick listened in the hallway. As nobody seemed to be at the garret stairway, he ran outside, to learn how Tom was faring.
“Tom! Tom! What happened to you?” he cried, in horror, when he beheld his brother on the ground. Then he saw the footstool and a cut on Tom’s head and understood what had occurred. The dangling rope told the rest of the story.
“They have gotten away!” he groaned. “And after all our efforts to hold them prisoners until help came! Too bad!”
He wanted to go after the brokers, but just now his concern was entirely for his brother.
He turned Tom over and then ran for some water. When he returned Tom was just opening his eyes.
“Dick! Some—something hi—hit me!” gasped the hurt one.
“They threw that wooden footstool at you, Tom. I’m afraid you’re badly hurt.”
“Am I? I—I feel mighty queer,” returned Tom, and then he closed his eyes again.
Dick was now more alarmed than ever. He carried his brother to the dining room, and laid him on some chairs, with a doubled-up blanket from a bed for a pillow. He washed Tom’s head and bound it up as best he could. Once or twice the injured youth opened his eyes for an instant, but he did not make a sound.
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 268
