"Let us go a bit further," returned his brother. "Then if we don't see
anything, we may as well go back to the lake."

"Hark!"

They listened intently and at a distance heard a crashing in the
brushwood.

"That sounded as if somebody had jumped across the brook, Tom!"

"Just what I should say, Sam. Come on!"

Again they went forward, a distance of thirty or forty yards. At this
point the path seemed to dwindle down to little or nothing.

"We have come to the end of the trail," was Tom's comment, as he gazed
around sharply.

"Do you see anything?" queried his brother.

"Nothing much. One or two of the bushes over yonder seem to be brushed
aside and broken."

"What do you think we had best do now?"

"Listen!"

Both remained silent for several minutes, but nothing out of the
ordinary reached their ears.

"We may as well give it up, Sam. It is growing dark and there is no
telling where this search would lead us. We might even get lost in the
woods."

They retraced their steps as quickly as they could to where they had
left the rowboat.

"What luck?" queried Fred.

"None; he got away from us."

"It's too bad," said Powell; and then the return to the camp was made
without further delay.




CHAPTER XXIV

MORE RIVALRY


"Do you mean to tell me that you saw Arnold Baxter?" exclaimed Dick,
after listening to Sam and Tom's story.

"We did," replied the youngest Rover. "There was no mistake?"

"If it wasn't Arnold Baxter do you think he would take such pains to
get out of our reach?" asked Tom.

"That is true, Tom. But it seems so unnatural. What can he be doing in
this out-of-the-way place?"

"As Powell says, he must be keeping out of the reach of the law.
Perhaps he expects to keep shady until this affair blows over."

"As if it would blow over!" cried Sam. "Dick, we ought to do
something."

Captain Putnam had already learned why the four cadets had been late in
returning to camp. The Rovers now went to consult him further.

"I agree, something should be done," said the captain. "Perhaps you had
better go to the nearest telegraph office, Richard, and telegraph to
your folks. You might also get some of the local authorities to take up
the hunt for this criminal."

"Who are the local authorities?"

"I really don't know, but we can find out at Oakville."

In the end Dick and Tom received permission to leave camp for an
indefinite time. Late as it was, they hurried to Oakville and caught
the telegraph operator at the little railroad station just as he was
shutting up for the night.

Having sent the message to their father they made inquiries of the
operator and learned that the town boasted of a Judge Perkins and that
the local constable was Munro Staton.

"Do you mean the farmer who lives down on the road to Bass Lake?" asked
Dick. "The man who has twin daughters?"

"That's the man."

"Why, he was in camp to-day, with his daughters," cried Dick. "Wish I
had known of this before. I might have hired him to make a hunt for the
fellow we are after. Where does that judge live?"

"Sorry, but he went to New York yesterday and won't be back for several
days."

The boys said no more, but without delay turned away from Oakville and
made their way to the Staton farmhouse.

"Hullo! I didn't expect to see you again to-day!" exclaimed Munro
Staton, as he opened the door for them. "Come in."

They entered, to find the girls sewing and Mrs. Staton darning
stockings. Mr. Staton had been reading his favorite weekly newspaper.

"We have come on a very important errand, Mr. Staton," began Dick. "We
have been down to Oakville and learned there that you are the local
police officer."

"Ah! Do you want somebody arrested?"

"If it can be done."

"Somebody at the camp?" put in Helen.

"No, I wish he was at the camp," said Tom. "But I'm afraid he is miles
away."

All of the Statons were interested and listened to the tale Tom and
Dick had to tell with close attention.

"Seems to me I've heard of this Baxter and his son," said Munro Staton,
scratching his head. "How does he look?"

As well as he was able Tom described the man, while Dick took a sheet
of paper and a pencil and made a rough but life-like sketch of the
individual.

"Why, you are quite an artist!" said Alice Staton as she gazed at the
picture. "I'm sure I'd recognize that man if I met him."

"So would I," added her father. "Can I keep this picture?"

"To be sure," replied Dick. "Now, Mr. Staton, to come to business. What
are your services as constable worth a day?"

"Oh, about two or two dollars and a half."

"Well if you will start a hunt for this man Baxter at once I'll
guarantee you three dollars per day for a week or two, and if you
succeed in landing him in jail I'll guarantee you a reward of one
hundred dollars. I know my father will pay that amount willingly."

"And if he won't, I will," said Tom.

"You must be rich."

"We are fairly rich, Mr. Staton. This man is a great criminal and has
been an enemy to our family for years. We don't want to see him at
large."

"Well, I'll take the job and do the best I can for you," said Munro
Staton and arose to his feet. "My hired man can run the farm while I am
gone."

He said he knew the spot where the boys had first seen Arnold Baxter,
and he would visit it at sunrise the next day and take up the trail as
best he could.

"That trail through the woods used to lead to the village of Hopdale,"
he said. "Perhaps I'll learn something about him over there."

"I sincerely hope that you do," returned Dick.

The boys, and especially Tom, were worn out with traveling and readily
consented to borrow a horse from Munro Staton, on which to ride back to
camp. The steed was returned early in the morning.

"It's rather a wild-goose chase," said Dick, in talking matters over
with his brothers. "But I don't know of anything else to do. Mr. Staton
may catch Baxter quicker than a metropolitan detective could do the
job."

Three days passed, and during that time the boys received two telegrams
from home, stating they should do as they thought best in the Baxter
affair, and that a detective was on the way. Then the detective
appeared at the camp and followed Munro Staton on the hunt for the
missing criminal. But the search by both men proved useless, and
nothing more was seen of Arnold Baxter for the time being.

The cadets had arranged for a series of athletic contests, to come off
at the beginning of the following week. There was to be broad and high
jumping, and running, as well as throwing the hammer. All of the
students were interested, and for some time these contests formed the
total subject of conversation.

The cadets to enter for the various events, eight in number, were those
already introduced in these pages and a dozen or fifteen in addition,
all lively, wide-awake youths, each of whom looked as if he would do
his best to win.

In a manner not to be easily explained, the camp divided itself into
two factions, one led by Dick and Major Larry, and the other led by Lew
Flapp and Pender. To the former belonged the Rovers and their numerous
chums, and to the latter Rockley, Ben Hurdy, and boys of a similar
turn. Each crowd had one or more followers entered for every event and,
as before, numerous wagers were made as to which person and which crowd
would win.

Dick had entered for the high jump, Tom for the hammer throwing, and
Sam for a half mile race for cadets of his own class. The boys
practiced a good deal, although not always where the others could see
what they were doing.

The day for the contests was a perfect one and as news of the events
had traveled to Oakville and other places, quite a respectable crowd of
outsiders came to the camp to witness the affair.

"I hope you Rover boys win," said Alice Staton, who had come with her
twin sister and her mother in a buggy.

"Thank you," returned Dick politely. "We shall certainly do our best.
But you must remember that we have some first-class athletes at this
academy."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. All academies have them," put in Helen Staton.

The first event to come off was the hammer throwing, to take place in
the middle of the parade ground. There were four entries for this, Tom,
as already mentioned, Jackson, Powell, and a big boy named Larson.

Larson, who belonged to the Flapp crowd, was looked on as the probable
winner, for he handled the hammer exceedingly well. But Jackson could
also throw, as the others well knew. Nothing was known about the skill
of Tom or Powell in this direction.

The contest began with a throw by Powell. It was not very good and
Jackson outdistanced him by three feet.

"That's the style, Jackson!" cried Lew Flapp. "Show 'em what you can
do."

"This is the day our crowd comes out on top," put in Pender.

"Crowing rather early, seems to me," came from Fred Garrison dryly.

It was now Tom's turn and he threw the hammer with all the force at his
command. It fell just beyond the point reached by Jackson.

"Good for you, Tom!" cried Sam. "That's the way to do it."

"Humph! Just wait till Larson takes his turn," came from a Flapp
follower.

Larson stepped to the mark with the air of one who knows just what he
is doing. Up went the hammer with a long swing--to land in the very spot
where Tom had thrown it.

"A tie! A tie!" was the cry.

"Well done, Larson!" came from Lew Flapp, but he was by no means
satisfied over the showing made.

Being tied, it was necessary for Tom and Larson to throw once more, and
again Tom took his position at the mark.

"Be careful, Tom," whispered Dick. "Take your time."

Again the hammer swung up into the air and went sailing forward.

"Hurrah, eight inches beyond his first mark!" came the cry.

"Larson will have to hump himself to beat that!"

It was now Larson's turn and he stepped to the mark with a quick,
earnest air. He realized that he must do his best if he expected to
beat Tom.

Jackson had picked up the hammer and he it was who had handed the
article to Tom.

As Larson swung the hammer on high Tom cried out quickly:

"Stop!"

"What's the matter with you?" cried Jackson uglily.

"I want Captain Putnam to examine that hammer."

"There ain't nothing wrong with it."

"Possibly not. But please remember that I used the one marked A."

"So did I," came from Powell.

Captain Putnam brushed forward.

"I will look at that hammer, please," he said to Larson quietly. He
knew that the cadets had several hammers for practicing throwing in the
camp.

"I--I guess it's all right," faltered Larson. "This hammer is marked B."

"B!" cried Tom. "That B hammer is about half a pound lighter than the
one marked A."

"It ain't so!" yelled Jackson.

"Let me see the hammer marked A," said the captain, and it was brought
from the spot where Jackson had thrown it. "It is certainly heavier
than this one," he went on. "Jackson, what do you mean by making such a
substitution?"

"I--er--I didn't know there was any difference."

"But why did you make the change at all?"

"I--er--I knew Larson liked this hammer better. The handle just suits
him."

"That is so," replied Larson blandly.

"We will try the contest over again," said Captain Putnam. "And every
contestant will use the hammer marked A."

"I don't like the hammer marked A," grumbled Larson.

"I would just as lief use the hammer marked B," said Tom quickly.

"So would I," added Powell, who felt he could not win anyway.

"Very well then, we will use the hammer marked B," said Captain Putnam.
"And after this, Jackson, be sure of what you are doing," he added
sharply, and at the words the boy who had tried to work such a mean
trick was glad enough to slink back out of sight as much as possible.




CHAPTER XXV

WINNING THE CONTESTS


Powell was again the first to throw the hammer and this time it went
two feet beyond his first mark.

"Good for you, Songbird!" said Tom. "I wish you had made it a yard."

Jackson came up with a scowling face. He did his best, but this time
fell behind Powell by four inches.

"You ought to have stuck to the other hammer, Jackson," laughed the
youth who composed songs.

"Don't you throw that up to me!" whispered Jackson fiercely. "If you do
I'll hammer you for it."

"Is that meant for a pun, Jackson?"

"No, it ain't. I won't stand being slurred. I'll pound you good."

"With the hammer?"

"No, with my fists."

"Really? Well, you'll have to spell able first." Tom came next, as
before, and now the hammer flew out four feet and nine inches beyond
his first mark.

"That shows what the other hammer can do," said Major Larry.

Larson was as much out of sorts as Jackson, but nevertheless he
resolved to do his best to win the contest. Up went the hammer with a
mighty swing and circled through the air. But the throw was behind that
of Tom by fourteen inches.

"Hurrah! Tom Rover wins!" was the cry, and many rushed forward to
congratulate him, while Larson and Jackson retired as quickly as they
could and in great disgust.

The next contest was a dash of two hundred yards and was won by a boy
named Bird.

"He's a bird!" sang out Tom loudly, and at this the crowd laughed
heartily.

Then came a race of a quarter of a mile for the little cadets and this
was won by Harry Moss, with Joe Davis a close second. Lew Flapp had
backed up Ben Hurdy, but cigarettes had done their work on Hurdy and
his wind gave out long before the race came to a finish.

"Good for you, Harry," said Dick, slapping the little cadet on the
back. "That was a fine run you made. And your run was almost as good,
Joe," he added, to Davis.

"I don't care if I did lose," panted Davis. "Both of us beat Ben Hurdy
hollow, and that's all I wanted to do."

"Oh, there's no moss growing on Moss," cried Tom, and this brought out
another laugh.

The next contest to come off was the high jump, for which Dick had
entered, along with Pender, Rockley, and four others, including Hans
Mueller. What had possessed the German boy to enter was beyond finding
out, for he could scarcely jump at all. Yet many, for the fun of it,
told him they thought he would surely win.

"Oh, you'll outjump everybody," said Sam. "None of 'em will come
anywhere near you."

"Dot's it! Dot's it!" cried Hans excitedly. "I vos chump so high like
nefer vos, ain't it?"

A lad named Lemon was the first to go over the bar, at a height of four
feet and two inches. Another cadet followed, going him two inches
better.

"Now, Hans, see what you can do," said Major Larry.

"Vos it mine turn to chump?"

"Yes. Are you ready?"

"Sure I vos."

"How high up shall they place the stick?"

"Apout like dot," and Hans pointed to the top of his head.

"All right, fellows, up she goes!" sang out Tom, and the stick went up.

Hans spat on his hands as if going to lift something. Then he squared
his shoulders and drew far back from the jumping place.

"Gif me lots of room, eferypotty!" he sang out.

"All the room you want, Dutchy!" cried one of the cadets.

Away Hans started for the stick, running as swiftly as his short legs
would carry him. When about ten feet away he made a wild leap, stuck up
both legs in the air, and came down flat on his back with a loud whack.

"Hurrah, Hans wins!" cried Tom. "Best fall I've seen in a year!"

"Wh--who--vat--" gasped Hans, trying to recover his wind. "Who knocked
me der pack ofer annahow?"

"Nobody hit you, Hans."

"Who put geese grease der groundt on ver I run, hey?"

"Nobody."

"Well, did I knock der stick town?"

"No, you didn't come anywhere near the stick."

"Do I got some more trials?"

"I think, Mueller, that you had better retire," said Captain Putnam
with a smile. "High jumping does not seem to agree with you."

"Maype dot's so, captain. Veil, I ton't care annahow. I vill drow der
hammer ven ve haf some more of dem kondests," and then Hans dropped to
the rear.

Rockley was the next to jump, and his record was an inch better than
that already made.

"That's all right," said Lew Flapp.

Two other pupils now took their turns in jumping and Rockley's record
was speedily eclipsed. Then Dick came along and sent the record still
higher.

"That's the talk, Dick," said Tom enthusiastically. "I don't think
Pender can do as well."

"Can't I," sneered Pender. "I'll show you."

On he came, measuring his distance with care, and went over the stick
at the same height Dick had taken.

"Another tie!" was the cry.

The last boy to jump did not do as well as Rockley, so the contest was
voted a tie between Dick and Gus Pender.

"Now, Dick, you must win," said Sam.

"You think a good lot of his ability," sneered Lew Flapp, who stood
close by, and started to walk off.

He had scarcely taken a step when Dick gave him a quick shove that sent
the tall boy flat on his face.

"I'll teach you to step on my foot, Lew Flapp!" he cried hotly.

"What's the trouble?" demanded several, while Mr. Strong came forward
to investigate.

"Lew Flapp stepped on my right foot, and he did it just as hard as he
could," said Dick.

"I--I didn't," growled Flapp.

"I say you did--and what is more, I think you did it on purpose."

"He did it to lame you, so you couldn't jump against Pender," came from
Tom.

"Flapp, did you step on Rover's foot on purpose?" demanded George
Strong.

"No, sir--didn't step on it at all."

"It is very strange. Rover says you did."

"He is mistaken."

"I am not mistaken. That is why I shoved him away, Mr. Strong."

"Is your foot hurt?"

"I don't think it is. But it didn't do it any good to have it stepped
on."

"Probably not. Do you still wish to jump?"

"Yes, sir. If I don't, some of the crowd will say I am afraid," said
Dick.

"In the future, Flapp, be more careful," said George Strong
significantly.

"By Jinks! but the Flapp crowd are dandies!" whispered Tom. "First
Jackson tried to change the hammers and now Flapp himself tries to
disable you. We must be on our guard after this."

"That's true," replied his elder brother, and Sam nodded.

Because of Dick's hurt foot it was decided that Gus Pender should jump
first. Pender did his best, clearing the stick by two inches better
than before.

"Put it up an inch higher," cried Dick, and made the jump, despite a
pain in the instep that was by no means pleasant. Then Pender tried
again, but failed, and Dick was declared the winner.

"This is the day for the Rovers!" cried one cadet, and a cheer for Tom
and Dick followed, while the Staton girls waved their handkerchiefs
wildly.

After this came several other contests, in each of which the crowd
pitted against the Flapp faction won. This made Lew Flapp, Rockley,
Pender, Jackson and a number of others feel very sore.

"We must win something," cried Pender fiercely. "If we don't we'll be
the laughing stock of the whole academy."

At last came the half mile race for which Sam had entered. Now, though
Lew Flapp was much larger than most of the others, he was in the same
class as Sam, and he had also entered this race, which boasted of ten
contestants, including William Philander Tubbs.

"You have got to win this, Lew," said Rockley. "It ought to be easy
for you, with such long legs."

"I mean to win and leave that Rover boy so far behind he'll feel sick,"
answered Flapp.

Sam had but little to say. But he knew that both Tom and Dick expected
him to win, and he resolved to "do or die" as the saying goes.

"Even if I lose they shan't say I didn't try," the youngest Rover told
himself.

Out on the field William Philander Tubbs was strutting around
boastfully.

"I can't help but win, don't you know," he drawled. "Running is exactly
in my line."

"Oh, what a whopper!" was Fred Garrison's comment. "Tubbs is about as
lazy as they make 'em."

Soon all of the contestants were ready, and George Strong explained the
conditions of the race.

"You are to run along the shore to the big rock where Lieutenant
Merrick is stationed," he said. "You are to round the rock by running
to the right, and you must keep to the right of the path on returning,
so that you won't run into anybody. The first to reach this mark on the
return wins the race. Do you understand?"

The runners said that they did.

"Very well then. Get ready. Go!"

Away piled the boys in a line that did not break for several yards.
Then Sam Rover shot ahead, followed by Flapp and two cadets named
Pigley and Franell.

"There they go!" was the shout.

"Leg it, Sam!" yelled Tom. "Leg it, old man!"

"Go it, Flapp! Don't let them win this race!"

"It's yours if you want it, Franell!"

"Remember how you won the race at Ithaca, Pigley!"

So the cries went on, while the outsiders cheered for nobody in
particular.

"Oh, I hope that Rover boy wins," said Alice Staton to her sister.

"So do I," answered Helen.

"By Jove, but I think I'll rest a bit!" panted William Philander Tubbs,
after running a couple of hundred yards, and he sat down on the grass,
while the crowd laughed at him.

Sam was keeping the lead in good shape, although hard pressed by Flapp,
Pigley, and Franell. His wind was good and he was running with a grace
which brought forth much favorable comment.

"Whether he wins or not, he is the most graceful runner in the school,"
whispered George Strong to Captain Putnam. "I never saw his equal."

"You are right, Strong," answered the captain. "I'll tell you what," he
added. "They are a great trio, those Rover boys. One cannot help but
love them, in spite of their tricks and occasional wrong-doings."

"I agree, Captain Putnam. And I must say I do not find their
wrong-doings so very great either," concluded George Strong.

The rock that was the turning point in the race was now almost gained.
Sam still led, but Flapp was right at one shoulder, with Pigley at the
other. Franell, at a look from Flapp, had dropped behind.

On the rock stood the lieutenant George Strong had mentioned. He was
friendly to Lew Flapp and as Sam swept around the rock, he leaned
forward, making the youngest Rover run about a yard further than was
necessary. Then he allowed Flapp to cut the rock closely.

But Sam was on his mettle and now bounded ahead faster than ever,
leaving Flapp and Pigley several yards in the rear.

"Confound him," thought Lew Flapp. "He'll win sure, unless Franell does
as he agreed--good!"

Flapp almost shouted the word, as he saw Sam run into Franell with a
crash and go down. The other boy had crossed the running path and
gotten directly into Sam's way.

"I see you are out of it!" cried Flapp gleefully, as he shot by the
prostrate figure.

"It was a trick!" muttered Sam to himself, and tried to rise to his
feet. But the wind was knocked completely out of him and before he
could recover the race was over, and Lew Flapp had come in ahead.




CHAPTER XXVI

SAM SHOWS WHAT HE CAN DO


"It was another trick. He knocked me down on purpose."

Thus spoke Sam, as soon as he could get a hearing.

"Well, if that isn't beastly!" cried Franell, in apparent surprise. "I
knocked him over! Why the little clown plumped right into me!

"Were you running on your side of the path?" questioned George Strong.

"I was, sir. Flapp and Pigley can prove it."

"That's right, Mr. Strong," said Lew Flapp.

"It was entirely Rover's fault," added Pigley. "He didn't keep to the
right as he should."

The other runners were questioned, but could give no testimony, as they
had not been close enough at the time of the collision.

"It is too bad it happened," said Captain Putnam.

"I would have won if it hadn't been for the fall," said Sam bitterly.
"I was in the lead."

"Yes, but you were about winded," said Flapp. "I saw you getting
groggy. That's what made you fall into Franell, I guess."

This remark made the youngest Rover more angry than ever.

"Mr. Strong," he said, turning to the head teacher suddenly, "will you
do me a favor?"

"What do you wish, Rover?"

"Will you time me if I run that race over again?"

"You mean to run it over alone?"

"Yes, sir--unless Flapp will run against me."

"I've won the race and that's all there is to it," grumbled the tall
boy doggedly.

"Certainly I'll time you, if you wish it," said Mr. Strong, who saw how
disappointed Sam was. "But it won't be a race, you know."

"I don't care--I want to show them what I can do."

"Very well."

Sam drew up to the mark and declared himself ready.

"Shall I run with you?" asked Tom. "Just to urge you on, you know?"

"All right, Tom, come on."

"Go!" cried George Strong, watch in hand and his eye on the second
hand.

Away went the brothers side by side, while a cheer went up from those
who had wished to see Sam win.

Tom kept close to his brother until the rounding rock was gained and
here Sam compelled him to drop behind.

"Go on!" yelled Tom good-naturedly. "Go! I'm after you!" and he put on
an extra spurt. Sam also spurted and kept the lead by about two yards.

"Humph! that ain't running!" muttered Lew Flapp to Rockley, but
nevertheless, he was greatly disturbed.

Down the line swept the two runners with the speed of the wind, Sam
keeping his two yards' lead in spite of Tom's efforts to overtake him.

"Won!" was the shout. "And Tom Rover is close behind." And then the
crowd gathered around George Strong to learn the time.

"Eight seconds better than Lew Flapp!" was the cry. "And Tom Rover came
in four seconds better!"

"That shows what Sam Rover would have done had Franell kept out of his
way."

"The race should have gone to Sam Rover!"

So the cries kept up until Captain Putnam compelled the cadets to quiet
down.

Lew Flapp and his cronies were much disgusted and left the field almost
immediately.

"He's afraid to stay," declared Dick. "He doesn't want Sam to challenge
him," and this was the truth.

The foot races were followed by some prize shooting, a race on the
lake, and then by a tub race, and a race in sacks, which called forth
much laughter, not only from the cadets, but also from the visitors.

"It was just splendid!" declared Alice Staton to Dick, when it was all
over. "I never had such a lovely time in my life."

"Nor I," added her twin sister. "But your brother should have had that
running race. It was a shame to knock him down."

"Never mind," said Tom, who had come up. "All the boys know he can run
faster than the winner anyway."

A luncheon was served to the visitors by Captain Putnam's order and
after that the cadets and their newly-made friends were allowed to go
walking, boating, or driving, as they saw fit. Swings had been erected
in the grove close to the encampment and these were constantly
patronized.

"It must be lots of fun to be a cadet," said Alice Staton, when ready
to depart. "If I was a boy I should want to go to a military academy."

"Oh, it's not all play," said Tom. "We have to work pretty hard over
our studies and sometimes a fellow doesn't feel like drilling, but has
to do it all the same."

It can truly be said that the Flapp crowd were much disappointed over
the results of the day's contests. Only two events had been won--a boat
race of small importance and the race in which Lew Flapp had come off
victor, and the latter victory was dimmed by the knowledge that Sam
Rover had cut down Flapp's time over the course by eight seconds.

"We may as well sell out and go home," said Pender, in deep disgust.

"But we can't go home," returned Rockley. "We've got to stay right here
and take all the taunts that come along."

"Nobody shall taunt me," cried Jackson. "If they try it I'll punch
somebody's nose."

"And to think we lost our money, too," said Ben Hurdy, after a pause.
"That's what makes me sick."

"Reckon you didn't lose much," said Lew Flapp, with a sickly grin.

"I lost all I had, and that's enough."

"Who won it?"

"Hans Mueller. That crazy Dutch boy was yelling for Tom Rover and I
took him up."

The Flapp crowd did not feel like mingling with the visitors, and at
the first opportunity Lew Flapp and his intimate cronies slipped away
from the camp and hurried to the hermit's den they had discovered.

"We'll have a little jollification of our own," said Rockley, and his
plan was speedily carried into effect, in a fashion which would not
have been approved by Captain Putnam or any of the teachers under him.

"We must get after Dick Rover," said Flapp, while smoking a
black-looking cigar. "As a captain he stands pretty high. If we can
pull him down we'll be striking a blow at the whole Rover family and
also at their intimate friends."

"Right you are. But the question is, How are we to get hold of him, and
what are we to do?" put in Jackson.

"I've got a plan, but I don't know exactly how it will work."

"Let us have it, Lew," came from Gus Pender.

"Some dark night we'll go to Rover's tent and haul him from his cot.
We'll wear masks and he'll think he's in for a bit of hazing and won't
squeal very loud. Then we can blindfold him and bring him here."

"So far, so good," put in Rockley. "And after that?"

"You know how he hates liquor?"

"Does he, or is it all put on?" questioned Ben Hurdy.

"I can't say as to that, but anyway he pretends to hate it, so it
amounts to the same thing. Well, after we have him here we can get him
to drink something by hook or by crook, and when he falls asleep we can
put an empty bottle in his hand and then somebody can bring Captain
Putnam to the spot. That will wipe out Dick Rover's record as a model
pupil all in a minute."

"Good!" almost shouted Rockley. "We can dose him easily. You just leave
that for me."

"Wish we could get his brothers into it, too," came from Pender.

"Oh, we can serve them out some other way," answered Lew Flapp. "At the
start, we don't want to bite off more than we can chew," he added
slangily.

The matter was discussed for fully an hour, and when the meeting broke
up each member understood fully what was to be accomplished.

Two days after the athletic contests the cadets had a prize drill. The
cadets had been preparing for this for some time and each company did
its best to win.

"I am greatly pleased with the showing made by all three companies,"
said Captain Putnam after the drilling and marching were at an end.
"Companies B and C have done very well indeed. But for general
excellence the average of Company A is a little above the others, so
the prize must go to Captain Rover's command."

"Hurrah for Dick Rover!" was the cry, and this was followed by a cheer
for First Lieutenant Powell and for Second Lieutenant Tom Rover.

"Humph! Forever cheering those Rovers!" muttered Flapp, who was in
Company C. "My, but it makes me sick!"

"Never mind," whispered Rockley. "Just wait till we get the chance to
work our little game."

At once Lew Flapp's face took on a cunning look.

"I've got an idea," he whispered in return. "Why not try it on
to-night? Then Captain Putnam would say Rover had been celebrating
because his company won the prize."

"You are right there, Lew, I didn't think of that. Wait till I sound
the other fellows."

It did not take Rockley long to talk to his cronies, and presently he
came back with a knowing look on his face.

"It's settled," he said. "By to-morrow morning Dick Rover will be in
disgrace and will lose his position as captain of Company A."




CHAPTER XXVII

A PRISONER OF THE ENEMY


Never dreaming of the plot hatched out against him, Dick retired as
usual that night. Now that the worry over the competitive drill was a
thing of the past he realized that he was worn out, and scarcely had
his head touched the pillow than he was in the land of Nod.

His awakening was a rude one. He felt himself raised up, a large towel
was passed over his face and tied behind his head, and then he was
dragged from his cot.

"Don't dare to make a sound!" whispered a low voice in his ear. "If you
do, you'll be struck senseless."

"Hullo, I'm about to be hazed," thought Dick, and it must be admitted
that he was far from pleased. "They think they are going to do
something grand to the captain of the company that won the prize. Well,
not if I can help it," and he began to struggle to free himself.

But his tormentors were too many for him and almost before he knew it
his hands and his feet were made secure and a sack was drawn over his
head. Then he was raised up and carried away he knew not to where.

"One thing is certain, they are taking me a long distance from camp,"
was his thought, when he found himself dumped into a rowboat. "Can they
be going to the head of the lake?"

The idea of using the boat had been suggested by Jackson, who said it
would bewilder Dick, so he would not know where he was being taken. And
Jackson was right, the eldest Rover thought he was a long way from camp
when he was placed on shore again.

His feet were now unloosed and he was made to march forward until the
vicinity of the hermit's den was reached. Then he was carried into the
den and tied fast to a log erected near one of the side walls.

"Take the sack from his head," came in the voice of Lew Flapp, and this
was done and then the towel was also removed.

For the moment Dick could see nothing, for the glare of a large lantern
was directly in his face. Then he made out half a dozen or more cadets
standing around him, each with a red mask over his face, and a red
skull cap with horns.

"Hullo, this must be a new secret society," he thought. "I've been
initiated into the Order of Black Skulls, but never into the Order of
Red Skulls. Wonder what they will want me to do?" There was a moment
of silence and one of the masked cadets stepped to the front.

"Prisoner, are you prepared to meet your doom?" was the question put in
a harsh voice.

"Oh, chestnuts!" cried Dick. "I went through that long ago, when I
first came to Putnam Hall."

"Bow to your superiors," said another voice.

"Where are the superiors?" asked Dick innocently. "I don't see 'em."

"The prisoner is impertinent! Make him bow!"

At once several sprang behind Dick and forced him to move his head up
and down.

"Let up, my head isn't on a hinge!" he cried. "Cut it short, for I'm
sleepy."

"Make him drink the poison and at once!" put in another of the masked
cadets.

The speaker tried to disguise his tones, but the voice sounded much
like that of Lew Flapp and instantly Dick was on the alert.

"How much do you want me to drink?" he asked cheerfully.

"Only one glass, if you drink it without stopping to sneeze," put in
another voice, and now Dick was certain that he recognized Rockley.

"These are no friends," he thought. "They are enemies and they intend
to play me foul."

"How can I drink with my hands tied behind me?" he asked.

"We will hold the glass for you," said another, and Dick felt almost
sure it was Gus Pender who uttered the words.

"It's the whole Flapp crowd," he mused. "I'm in a pickle and no
mistake. I suppose they'll half kill me before they let me go."

"Will you drink?" asked another. He was small in size and Dick put him
down as being Ben Hurdy.

"I want you to untie my hands."

"Very well, let the prisoner hold the glass," said Flapp.

"Thank you, Flapp."

"Who said I was Flapp?" growled the tall boy, in dismay.

"I say so."

"My name is Brown."

"All right then, Brown let it be," said Dick, not wanting to anger the
bully too much.

The prisoner's hands were untied and a glass containing a dark-colored
mixture was handed to him. Dick had heard of the "glass of poison"
before, said glass containing nothing but mud and water well stirred
up. But now he was suspicious. This glass looked as if it might contain
something else.

"They'd as soon drug me as not," he thought. "For all I know this may
be a dose strong enough to make an elephant sick. I don't think I'll
drink it, no matter what they do."

"Prisoner, drink!" was the cry.

"Thanks, but I am not thirsty," answered Dick, as coolly as he could.
"Besides, I had my dose of mud and water a long time ago."

"He must drink!" roared Rockley.

"Get the switches!" ordered Lew Flapp, and from a corner a number of
long, heavy switches were brought forth and passed around.

Things began to look serious and it must be confessed that Dick's heart
beat fast, for he had no desire to undergo a switching at the hands of
such a cold-hearted crowd, who would be sure to lay on the strokes
heavily.

"Don't you strike me," said Dick, thinking rapidly. "I'll drink fast
enough. But I want to know one thing first."

"Well?"

"What are you going to do with me next?"

"Make you take the antidote for the poison," said Flapp.

"And what is that?"

"Another drink."

"They are going to drug me as sure as fate," reasoned Dick. "How can I
outwit them?"

While he was deliberating there was a noise outside, as a night bird
swept by the entrance to the hermit's den.

All of the masked cadets were startled and looked in that direction.

By inspiration Dick seized the moment to throw the contents of the
glass over his shoulder into a dark corner. When the crowd turned back
he had the glass turned up to his mouth and was going through the
movement of swallowing.

"Ugh! what ugly stuff," he said, handing the glass to one of the crowd.

"Ha! he has swallowed the poison!" cried Lew Flapp, and nudged Rockley
in the ribs. "That was easy, wasn't it?" he whispered.

"Give him the second glass," muttered Rockley. "That will make him as
foolish as a fiddler."

Pender already had the glass handy. He passed it to Dick, who suddenly
glared at him in an uncertain manner. Dick had smelt the liquor in the
first glass and now realized something of the plot to bring him to
disgrace.

"Say, but that stuff makes me feel lightheaded," he said. "Wasn't so
bad, after all."

"Drink this, quick," cried Flapp, more eagerly than ever.

"All right," said Dick, and spilt a little out of the glass onto the
floor. "Wonder what makes my hand shake so?" he murmured.

"Take this and it will brace you up," put in Pender.

"Ha, look there!" yelled Dick, gazing fixedly at the rear of the den.
"See the three-headed owl!"

All looked in the direction and again he threw the contents of the
glass behind him. Then he pretended to drink, while glaring at the
cadets around him.

"Funny, I can't count you any more!" he muttered. "Six, seven, ten,
'leven, nine! Say, I'm all mixed up. Who put me on the merry-go-'round
anyway?" He began to stagger. "Guess I'm on a toboggan slide, ain't I?"
and he acted as if he could no longer stand up-right.

"Cut him loose, fellows!" cried Flapp, and this was done, and Dick
staggered to the table, clutched it, slid to the floor and acted as if
he had fallen into a deep sleep.

"Say, that was dead easy!" cried Pender gleefully. "Took the stuff
like a lamb."

"What's to do next, Flapp?" asked Jackson.

"Say, Jackson, don't speak my name, please," cried the tall boy in
alarm.

"Oh, what's the odds," put in Pender. "Rover is dead to the world.
Rockley knew just how to fix those doses."

"That's right, Gus," came from Rockley.

"We had better not lose time here," went on Flapp presently. "Let us
tell Captain Putnam without delay. He'll have Rover brought back to
camp just as he is, and that will disgrace him forever."

"Wait till I put the empty bottle near him," said Rockley, and this was
done.

Then the crowd of masked cadets left the den, leaving the door wide
open behind them.




CHAPTER XXVIII

DICK'S MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE


A minute after the last of Lew Flapp's crowd left the hermit's den Dick
leaped to his feet, went to the doorway, and listened intently. It was
quite dark, so he could see little or nothing.

At a distance he heard the masked cadets stealing swiftly along through
the woods. They had put out the lantern, knowing the road fairly well
through repeated excursions to the den. Soon the crowd was completely
out of hearing.

It must be confessed that Dick felt lonely, and almost the first thing
he did was to take a match from his pocket and strike it. Discovering a
bit of candle on the table he lighted this also.

But little was to be seen outside of that which had already met his
gaze. The hermit's den had been cleaned up around the table, on which
rested half a dozen bottles, an empty cigar box, and several packs of
cards.

"This must be the stuff those fellows bought in Oakville," thought the
eldest Rover. "They have been using this cave for a regular club room.
What a beastly crowd they are! And they really imagine they are having
good times, too!"

As will be remembered, Dick had been given a trip on a rowboat before
being brought into the den and he imagined that he was somewhere near
the head of Bass Lake, how far from the camp he could not tell.

"Perhaps I'm near where Tom and the others met those snakes," he mused.
"Ugh! I don't want to fall in with things like that. And how I am to
get back to camp without a boat is more than I can settle."

Blowing out the bit of candle, he placed it in his pocket and left the
den. On all sides were the thick bushes already described, and poor
Dick knew not which way to turn. He listened once more, but hardly a
sound broke the midnight silence.

"Might as well strike out as to stay here," he said. "I don't think
they'll come back in very much of a hurry, and perhaps they won't come
until morning."

Pushing his way through the bushes he at last reached a tiny stream
that poured over the rocks. He followed the stream and after half an
hour's hard walking reached the edge of the lake. He had journeyed
directly away from the camp and was now in a spot that was lonely in
the extreme.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the water at this point was very shallow
and soon Dick was wading over to what he took to be the island upon
which the encampment had been located. But as a matter of fact he was
headed for the main shore of the lake, and soon he was tramping further
away from the camp than ever. For once in his life, so far as his bump
of locality was concerned, Dick was hopelessly mixed.

Dick traveled nearly a mile before he reached the conclusion that he
was not on Pine Island or anywhere near it.

"I'm on the mainland, that's certain," he told himself. "I guess the
best thing I can do is to wait for daylight before going further. I may
only--Hullo, a light!"

Dick had emerged from a grove of trees and now saw a light streaming
from the window of a cottage but a short distance away. The sight of
this caused him to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Some farmer's place, I suppose," he murmured. "Well, anything will do.
I can get a place to sleep, and the farmer can testify to it that I
haven't been drinking, as Lew Flapp and his cronies will want to
prove."

A curtain was drawn over the window of the cottage, so that Dick could
not see into the room. The cottage was small, with but a single doors
and on this the youth rapped loudly.

The rapping was followed by a commotion inside of the cottage and Dick
heard two persons leap to their feet.

"Who's there?" demanded a rough voice.

"A stranger," Dick answered. "I have lost my way in the darkness," and
without waiting he tried the door, and finding it unlocked, opened it.

"Dick Rover!"

The cry came from one of the occupants of the room, a tall,
awkward-looking young man, much tanned by exposure, and with a pair of
dark and wicked-looking eyes.

"Great Scott!" gasped Dick, falling back a step. "Am I dreaming or is
this really Dan Baxter?"

"Oh. I'm Dan Baxter right enough," answered the former bully of Putnam
Hall.

"But--but I thought you were still on that island in the Pacific."

"You wanted to see me end my days there, didn't you?" sneered Dan
Baxter.

Dick did not reply, for he was gazing at the other occupant of the
room, a man with a short crop of hair and a short beard.

"And your father, too!" he murmured.

"Come in here," cried Arnold Baxter savagely and caught him by the arm.
"Are you alone?"

"Yes," answered Dick, before he had stopped to think twice.

"Good enough. Come in," and Arnold Baxter continued to hold him.

"He may be fooling us, dad," put in Dan Baxter. "The officers of the
law may be with him."

"Take a look around and see, Dan. I'll keep him here."

"Let me go!" cried Dick, trying to break away.

"Not much, Rover. You'll stay right where you are for the present,"
answered the older Baxter grimly.

Dan had slipped out and he made a thorough search before returning to
the cottage. In the meantime Dick was forced to sit down on a bench in
a corner, while Arnold Baxter stood over him with a stout club.

"This is getting interesting, to say the least," thought Dick. "I wish
I hadn't come anywhere near the cottage."

"Nobody around," announced Dan Baxter, as he came in and closed and
locked the door.

"Good," answered his father. He turned again to Dick. "Now, how comes
it that you are wandering around here, Rover?" he went on.

"I was trying to find my way back to camp and lost my way in the
woods."

"But your camp is on an island."

"I know it. I was carried off by some students who were hazing me. They
put a bag over my head and took me in a boat, and I got mixed up.

"I hope they hazed you good," came from Dan Baxter with a malicious
grin.

"Thank you, Dan, you always were a real friend," returned Dick, as
coolly as he could.

"Oh, don't you come any of that game over me!" roared Dan Baxter. "I
haven't forgotten the past, Dick Rover, and you'll find it out so
before I get through with you. I was just hoping you or your precious
brothers might drop into my arms."

"What are you and your father doing here?"

"That is my business," broke in Arnold Baxter.

"I don't see why you fellows can't turn over a new leaf," went on Dick
earnestly.

"Oh, don't preach, Dick Rover," answered Dan Baxter. "You make me sick
when you do that."

"I suppose you find this a good hiding place."

"It has been--up to now," said Arnold Baxter. "But since you have
discovered us--" he did not finish.

"We'll make him pay for it," said Dan Baxter. "I've been waiting to
square accounts for a long time."

"How did you escape from that island, Dan?" asked Dick curiously.

"A ship came along about a week after you left it."

"I see. And did you come right through to here?"

"That is my business, Dick Rover. But I came to help my father, I don't
mind telling you that."

"Then you knew he had escaped from prison?"

"From the hospital, yes."

"And did you know he had robbed our house?"

"He took what belonged to him, Dick Rover. Your folks robbed him of
that mine in the West."

"Well, I won't argue the point, Dan Baxter." Dick got up and moved
toward the door. "I think I'll go."

"Will you!" cried both of the Baxters, in a breath, and seizing him
they forced him back into the corner.

"Let us make him a prisoner," went on Dan Baxter, and this was speedily
done by aid of a rope which the elder Baxter brought forth. Then Dick
was thrown into a closet of an inner apartment and the door was locked
upon him.




CHAPTER XXIX

TRUE HEROISM


"Well, one thing is certain, I am much worse off now than I was when in
the hands of Lew Flapp's crowd," thought Dick dismally, after trying in
vain to break the bonds that bound him.

The closet in which he was a prisoner was so small that he could
scarcely turn himself. The door was a thick one, so to break it down
was out of the question.

"Stop your row in there!" called out Dan Baxter presently. "If you
don't, I'll give you something you won't want."

"How long are you going to keep me here?"

"If you wait long enough you'll find out," was the unsatisfactory
answer.

"It won't do you any good to keep me a prisoner, Dan."

"Won't it? Perhaps you think I'm going to let you go so that you can
get the officers to arrest my father," sneered the younger Baxter.

"They are bound to get him anyway, sooner or later."

"They'll never get him if they don't catch him this week."

"Why? Is he going to leave the country?"

"That's his business, not yours," said Dan Baxter, and walked away.

"It's too bad he turned up as he did," remarked Arnold Baxter, when he
found himself alone with his son. "I thought I'd be safe here until I
could slip over to Boston."

"When does that steamer sail for Cape Town, Africa, dad?"

"Tuesday or Wednesday of next week."

"Then all we can do is to keep Dick Rover a prisoner until that time."

"We can't do it, Dan. As soon as he is reported missing this whole
vicinity will be searched."

"Do you think they'll find this cottage?"

"Perhaps, although so far I have not been disturbed."

"Tom and Sam Rover came pretty close to locating you, didn't they?"

"They came within half a mile of the spot. But I gave them the slip."

"I wish I could square up with all of the Rovers," went on Dan Baxter
savagely. "They have caused me no end of trouble."

"Better leave them alone, Dan. Every time you try to do something you
get your fingers burnt."

To this the son could not answer, for he knew that his father spoke the
truth.

A long talk followed, and then Dan Baxter left, promising to return
before noon of the next day. He was to proceed to a town about twelve
miles away and there purchase for his father a new suit of clothing and
a preparation for dyeing his hair and beard. With this disguise Arnold
Baxter hoped to get away from the vicinity and reach Boston without
being recognized.

So far the night had been clear, but now a storm was brewing. From a
great distance came a rumble of thunder and occasionally a glimpse of
lightning lit up the landscape.

"You'll have a bad journey of it," said Arnold Baxter to his son as the
latter was leaving.

"Reckon I'll have to make the best of it," answered Dan. "But I've got
used to such things, since I've been knocking around the ocean and
elsewhere."

Left to himself, Arnold Baxter paced the floor of the cottage uneasily.
Age was beginning to tell upon him and he was by no means the man he
was when introduced to the Rovers years before.

"I wish I was out of it," he murmured to himself. "I'd give a good deal
to be on the ocean this minute, bound for some place where I can make a
fresh start."

The storm kept growing in violence until the cottage fairly shook from
the fury of the wind. There was much thunder and lightning, with some
crashing in the woods close at hand, that caused both Baxter and Dick
to start in alarm.

Dick was doing his best to free himself and at last managed to get one
hand loose.

He had already found that to attempt forcing the door was useless. Now
he tried the walls of the closet and then the flooring and the ceiling.