The Rover Boys Megapack

by Edward Stratemeyer

  “What is the news, Sam?” asked Nellie, quickly.

  “It’s not very good, Nellie,” he said, kindly. “Tom has run away.”

  “Run away!” gasped the girl, and turned pale. “Oh, you don’t mean it!”

  “Where did he go to?” questioned Grace.

  “To Chicago.”

  “And from there, so he told a train conductor, he was going to Seattle and then to Alaska,” said Songbird. “Sam and Dick are going after him, just as soon as they can.”

  “To Alaska! Tom has gone to Alaska!” murmured Nellie, and then she turned and swayed, and the next moment fainted in Sam’s arms.

  CHAPTER XIV

  DICK AND SAM IN CHICAGO

  “Get some water, Songbird, quick!”

  “Oh, Sam, shall I get some smelling salts!” cried Grace.

  “I guess the water will do, Grace. Here, stand on this side, so those other girls can’t see Nellie,” went on the boy. “No use of letting them know everything.”

  Grace understood and she and Sam shielded Nellie and carried her to a campus bench. Then Songbird arrived with a cup of water from a well. Just as he handed it over, Nellie opened her eyes.

  “Oh! I—I—what happened?” she murmured. “Oh, I remember now!” And a look of pain crossed her face.

  “Take a drink of water, dear,” said her sister, and held the cup. Nellie took a sip and then Grace bathed her forehead with some water poured on a handkerchief that Sam passed over. Soon the girl sat up straight.

  “I—I’m all right now,” she faltered. “It—it was such a—a shock. Oh, Sam, do you really think Tom is bound for Alaska?”

  “It looks like it, Nellie,” he answered. “I’ll tell you all about it, if you’ll walk down the road, away from those other students.” And then, as they walked away slowly, Sam and Songbird told their story, the two girls hanging on their every word.

  “It’s awful, terrible!” murmured Grace. “Poor Tom, he must be clear out of his mind!”

  “That’s the only explanation,” answered Sam. “He’d never do such a thing if he was in his right senses.”

  “Oh, but he may lose his mind entirely,” gasped Nellie. “I’ve read of such cases in the newspapers. A person wanders off and forgets who he is, or where he came from, and all that! Supposing Tom went to Alaska and that happened to him! Why, we might never be able to find him!” And the tears began to course down Nellie’s cheeks.

  “We’ll find him,” answered Sam, sturdily. “Why, we’ve got to do it!”

  “But Alaska is so big, Sam! And think of going out to those mining camps, and out in that snow and ice! Oh, I can’t stand it!” And Nellie’s tears started afresh.

  “We’ll have to catch him before he has a chance to leave St. Paul or Seattle,” returned the youth.

  “I think they had better telegraph ahead and set somebody on the watch,” said Songbird. “It will cost money to send a description of Tom, but it may pay to do it.”

  “Yes, yes! Do that, Sam! Anything to find Tom!” pleaded Nellie.

  “We’ll do what we can, Nellie, you can be sure of that,” was the reply.

  The boys remained with the girls a short time longer and then took their departure.

  “Take care of yourself, Sam,” said Grace, on parting. “If you go West don’t get into any trouble.”

  “I won’t get into any more trouble than I can help,” he replied. “But we are bound to find Tom and bring him back.”

  It was dark when the boys got back to Brill, and while Songbird prepared to go to supper, Sam hurried to the office of the head of the institution. He found Doctor Wallington pouring over some teacher’s reports. He listened with a troubled face to what Sam had to tell and shook his head slowly.

  “Too bad, Rover, and I sympathize with you and your family from the bottom of my heart. Clearly that blow on the head has put your brother completely out of his mind. I am glad that Richard is coming to Ashton to aid you. What you had better do next is a problem.”

  “I think we’ll send word West about Tom and then try to follow him,” answered Sam. “That is why I came here—to notify you that I’d have to leave.”

  “I shall be sorry to lose you, Samuel. Let us hope that you’ll be able to come back in a few days—and that Thomas’s case will not prove as bad as we think. I agree that it is best for you to move at once, for there is no telling what your missing brother may do. Can I aid in any way?”

  “You may cash a check for me—I may need some ready money,—if Dick doesn’t happen to have enough with him.”

  “I’ll do that with pleasure. Anything else?”

  “I want to go to Ashton late this evening, to meet Dick. I’ll take a suitcase with me.”

  “One of the men can drive you down. Will your brother come here?”

  “Possibly. But both of us may stay in Ashton, to take the one o’clock train for Chicago. It stops on signal, you know.”

  “Yes. Very well. Anything else?”

  “No, sir,” answered Sam, and then he wrote out the check and got his money. A little later, after a hasty supper, he started to pack his suitcase with such things as he thought he might need for the trip to Chicago.

  He was in the midst of his labors when Songbird came in, followed by Spud, Stanley, Max and several others. All wanted to assist him, yet they could do little. Each was deeply sympathetic.

  “It’s too bad, Sam,” said Spud. “I hope you catch Tom before he has a chance to leave Chicago. Why when a chap gets out of his mind there is no telling what he’ll do, or where he’ll go.”

  “Oxactly so,” came from Max. “I knowed a man vonce dot goes his mind owid. He took an axe, and—veil neffer mind, Dom ton’t do nuddings like dot anyvay,” added the German-American student hastily, after a warning look from Songbird.

  “I think that moving picture must have hit Tom hard,” said Stanley. “It was so lifelike. He talked about it a great deal.”

  “Yes, he couldn’t forget it. He even talked about it in his sleep,” returned Sam. “He wanted to go out and get those nuggets of gold.”

  “Well, I’d like some nuggets myself,” cried Spud. “But I am not going to the ice fields of Alaska for ’em,” he added, grimly, and this caused a faint smile to spread on some of the boys’ faces.

  Songbird had received permission to accompany Sam to Ashton, and at nine o’clock the youths were on the way, in a carriage driven by one of the college drivers. They went directly to the depot, there to await the arrival of the train that was to bring Dick.

  It was a cold, disagreeable evening, with a promise of rain in the air. The boys were glad enough to go into the station, which was kept open for the coming of the late train.

  “Can a fellow get on that one o’clock Chicago train from here?” asked Sam, of the ticket man.

  “Yes, if he’s got a ticket,” was the reply. “I’ll have to signal it to stop though.”

  “Well, I’ll let you know about it as soon as I see my brother. He is coming in on the eleven-thirty.”

  It had begun to rain by the time the last-named train rolled in. Only three passengers got off, but one of them was Dick. He had a suitcase with him, and he fairly ran to meet Sam and Songbird.

  “Any more news?” he demanded.

  Sam related the particulars of what had occurred. In the meantime the train had gone on and the station was deserted by all but the ticket man.

  “Going to lock up now,” he said to the boys, who had gathered in the station, out of the rain.

  “Wait just one minute please,” pleaded Sam.

  “Here, go out and get some cigars for yourself,” added Dick, and passed over a quarter.

  “Thanks, I will,” returned the ticket man, and walked off to an all-night resort not far from the station.

  “I don’t see anything to d
o but to follow Tom to Chicago,” said Dick. “We might send a telegram to the authorities, but I can’t see how it would do any good. They don’t know him, and in a big city like that it is hard enough to find a fellow when he is well-known. If we take that one o’clock train we’ll be in Chicago by morning, and I’d rather look around myself than trust the police to do it.”

  “All right, I came prepared for the trip,” answered Sam, and pointed to his suitcase.

  When the station man came back they purchased two tickets for Chicago and the man set out his lantern to signal the express. Then Songbird said good-bye, wishing them all kinds of good luck, and rode back to Brill.

  “Sam, this is simply terrible,” observed the big brother, as he paced the depot platform, the station master having gone away. “I never thought such a thing as this would come to Tom.”

  “Neither did I, Dick. Nellie is all broke up over it, too.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Did you send word home? I didn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t want to worry the folks until the last minute. But Dora knows, and so does Mrs. Stanhope.”

  “What about Dad’s business, Dick? Can you get away from it?”

  “I can’t get away any too easily, Sam. Things are in a fearful snarl. But I telephoned to Mr. Powell, the lawyer, to look after matters during my absence. I think we’ve got those brokers under our thumb—at least I hope so. But if we haven’t, we stand to lose a bunch of money.”

  “How much?”

  “Twenty or thirty thousand dollars.”

  “That’s too bad. If you think you ought to go back, I might look for Tom alone.”

  “Don’t you dare to mention such a thing, Sam. I think more of Tom than I do of twice that amount of money—and so do you and the rest of the family. Our whole duty is to find Tom, and do it, too, before he gets into more mischief, or gets hurt,” concluded the oldest Rover.

  Promptly on time the night express bound west came along. It seldom stopped at Brill and the conductor gazed curiously at the two youths as they got aboard. Then the lantern was extinguished and set aside, and the heavy train rolled on.

  Fortunately travel was light that night, so the lads had no trouble in getting a section of a sleeper from the Pullman porter. They had only the lower berth made up, and on that laid down, to talk matters over and get some sleep.

  “Yes, it must have been that moving picture that set Tom off,” said Dick, during the course of the conversation. “And that gives us something like a clue to work on. The main scenes took place in Alaska, and he may be just topsy-turvy enough in his mind to want to find those places. Talking about golden nuggets, and about being on the trail of Bill Stiger, looks like it, anyway.”

  “I think so myself, Dick. But his mind may change and he may go to Mexico, or Europe,” and Sam sighed deeply.

  Neither of the boys slept much and both were up almost as early as anybody on the train. More to pass the time than because they felt hungry, they went into the dining car for breakfast.

  At last the train rolled into the suburbs of the great city of the lakes and finally came to a stop at the big depot. The youths took up their suitcases and filed out with the other passengers.

  “Have you any idea where we ought to look first?” asked Sam.

  “I think we may as well leave our bags on check at this depot and look around here,” was the answer. “Tom started from here and maybe we’ll be lucky enough to meet somebody who saw and remembered him.”

  Having checked the suitcases, the Rovers started in earnest, asking the men at the news stand and in the smoking room and at the lunch counter and restaurant. Then they questioned the taxicab drivers, and even some of the newsboys and bootblacks.

  “It looks almost hopeless,” said Sam, at last.

  “Not yet,” returned Dick. “We haven’t struck the most important people yet. Funny we didn’t think of them first.”

  “Whom do you mean?”

  “The ticket sellers. Let me have that photo of Tom and we’ll see if any of them remember him.”

  From one ticket window they went to another, until they reached an elderly man, who gazed at the photograph with interest.

  “Yes, I remember that young man,” he said, slowly. “He was here yesterday afternoon.”

  “Did he buy a railroad ticket?”

  “He did.”

  “Where to?”

  “Seattle.”

  “Can you remember on what train?” asked Sam.

  “Sure. I had to hurry for him, for he took the four-ten train, by way of St. Paul,” was the reply.

  CHAPTER XV

  BOUND WEST

  “Well, Sam we have done all we can do for the present.”

  “That’s right, Dick.”

  “Whether it will do any good or not remains to be seen,” and Dick gave a long-drawn sigh and leaned back in the sleeping car seat he occupied.

  It was about three hours later and in that time the Rover boys had been very busy.

  Following the announcement of the ticket seller that Tom had taken a train for Seattle by way of St. Paul, the Rovers had sent a telegram to the conductor of the train, asking him to look out for Tom and have him detained. They had procured accommodations on the train they were now on, and had so notified the railroad official, so he would know where to address them, provided the missing one was found. They had also sent a telegram to the folks at home and another to the girls at Hope.

  “Perhaps we’ll get word when we reach St. Paul,” said Sam. “For all we know Tom may be there, awaiting our arrival.”

  “I sincerely hope so, Sam. I’m sure I don’t want to go away out to the Pacific coast for him.”

  “It’s too bad Tom didn’t buy one of those railroad tickets that a fellow has to sign,” observed Sam. “If he had done that, it would be easy to find him.”

  “That’s true.”

  The train they were on was an express, making but few stops and would reach St. Paul late in the evening. It was only about three-quarters filled, so the Rovers had had no difficulty in getting a section of a sleeper. Whether they would go further than St. Paul was, however, as yet a problem.

  “Next stop Milwaukee!” was the cry, and soon the train rolled into that city. Anxiously the two brothers looked out and saw one of the trainmen take several telegrams from a man on the platform. After the train had started again the trainman came through the train.

  “Telegrams for Miss Baker, Mr. Josephs and Mr. Rover!” he called out.

  “Here you are!” cried Sam, eagerly. “Rover.” And the telegram was passed over. Hastily the envelope was torn open and the contents scanned. The boys looked at each other blankly. The telegram read as follows:

  “No young man answering to name Tom Rover on this train. Will watch passengers closely as instructed.

  “FOLSOM, Conductor.”

  “What do you make of this, Dick. Maybe Tom didn’t use that ticket after he bought it,” gasped Sam.

  “But that ticket seller saw him rush for the gate. He must have gone on the train, Sam. He probably didn’t answer to his name because if he is out of his mind he has forgotten what his real name is. And so long as he keeps quiet the trainmen won’t suspect anything wrong with him.”

  “Perhaps we’ll get another telegram at St. Paul.”

  “I hope so.”

  On and on rolled the train through the afternoon, coming presently to the shore of the upper Mississippi, with its wide stretches of marshland and its dead trees. It was not an inviting scene, and the two Rovers were glad enough, when the time came, to turn from it and go to the diner for dinner.

  There was to be a stop of ten minutes at St. Paul and in that time the boys must make up their minds whether they were going to continue on that train or not. If they laid over, several more hours of precious time wou
ld be lost.

  It was well towards midnight when the train reached St. Paul and a number of sleepy passengers got off and others got on. Dick and Sam waited impatiently for a messenger to appear. The telegram was there, sure enough, and this time it carried more interesting information.

  “Queer-acting young man found, but says his name is Paul Haverlock. Says he is bound for Alaska. Wire positive instructions, as I can take no risks. “FOLSOM, Conductor.”

  “It must be Tom!” cried Sam.

  “But that name, Paul Haverlock,” mused Dick. “Where did he get that?”

  “Why, I remember, Dick! In that moving picture the hero was called Paul Haverlock. His name was on the letters they showed on the screen. Tom must have remembered it, just as he remembered the name of the villain, Bill Stiger!”

  “I see. Then this Paul Haverlock must really be Tom,” returned Dick. “Now to have him stopped. I wonder where that other train is now?”

  They found out that the other train was then in the vicinity of Livingston, the junction point for Yellowstone Park. From there it was bound for Helena, Spokane, and then to Seattle direct.

  “We’ll telegraph again, and keep right on this train,” said Dick, and this was done.

  If the two youths had slept but little the night before, they were even more restless this night. And yet they realized that Folsom, the conductor of the other train, would not be likely to arouse Tom if he had gone to bed.

  “He won’t take the chance,” said Dick. “Remember, he isn’t sure of what he is doing, and all railroad men like to keep out of trouble. If he made a mistake, the passenger might sue the railroad company for big damages, and get them.”

  “If only we could catch up to Tom!” sighed Sam.

  “That is impossible, Sam, because he is on an express, just as we are. As it is, he’ll gain on us when he gets to Spokane, for he will go through without waiting, while we’ll either have to lay over or go by some other route that is much longer.”

  As there seemed nothing more to do just then they at last went to sleep, and did not rouse up again until it was broad daylight.