"Wait," said James Monday. "I am sorry, but you'll have to stay here
for the present, Mr. Cashaw."

"You mean you are goin' to make me stay here?"

"For a while, yes."

"With the wagon?"

"No, I'll drive your wagon to the ranch."

"I ain't askin' you to do the job."

"I'll do it for nothing," answered the government official with a
quiet smile.

"See here, I don't understand this, at all," cried Bill Cashaw. "What
is yer game, anyhow?"

"If you want me to be plain, I'll tell you. I suspect the men at the
ranch of a serious crime. For all I know, you are one of the gang
and as bad as the rest. If so, you're face to face with a long term
in prison."

"Crime? Prison? I ain't done a thing!"

"If you are innocent, you have nothing to fear, and you will do what
you can to aid me in running down the guilty parties."

At this, the face of the old man became a study. He started to talk,
stammered and became silent.

"Tell me!" he burst out suddenly. "Are you an officer?"

"I am--working under the United States Government."

"Oh!" The old man turned pale. "Then let me say, as I said afore, I
ain't done nuthin' wrong, an' I don't want to go to prison. If them
fellers at the ranch are criminals, I don't want ter work fer 'em no
more, an' I'll help you to bring 'em to justice."



CHAPTER XXIV

TOM CARRIES A LETTER

After that it was a comparatively easy matter to get the old man to
talk, and he told James Monday and the boys practically all he knew
about Sack Todd and his followers.

He said it was commonly supposed that Sack Todd had some invention
that he was jealously guarding. Some folks thought the man was a bit
crazy on the subject of his discoveries, and so did not question him
much concerning them. The machinery and other material which arrived
from time to time were all supposed to be parts of the wonderful
machine Sack Todd was having made at various places.

While he was talking, the old man looked at Tom many times in curiosity.

"Might I ask your name?" he said at length.

"What do you want 'to know that for?" returned Tom.

"Because you look so wonderfully like my son Bud--an' you talk like
him, too. But Bud's skin is a bit darker nor yours."

"My name is Tom Rover."

"Talking about looking alike," broke in Fred. "There's a strong
resemblance," and he pointed to the detective and the old man. "Of
course, you don't look quite so old," he added to James Monday.

"I am glad that you think we look alike," smiled back the government
official. "I was banking on that."

"What do you mean?" came from Songbird.

"I will show you in a minute. Mr. Cashaw, I'll trouble you to exchange
hats, coats and collars with me," the detective continued, turning
to the old man.

The latter did not understand, but gave up his wearing apparel a
moment later, and soon James Monday was wearing them. Then the
detective rubbed a little dirt on his hands and face and, with a
black pencil he carried, gave himself a few marks around the mouth
and eyes.

"How do you do, boys?" he called out, in exact imitation of Bill Cashaw.

"Wonderful!" ejaculated Tom. "That will do splendidly.

"Mine cracious! I ton't vos know vich been you an' vich been der old
man!" burst out Hans. "You vos like two pretzels alretty!"

"That's a fine comparison," laughed Fred, and all had to smile over
the German youth's words.

"I reckon I know what you intend to do," said Tom to the government
official. "You want to take the old man's job away from him."

"Yes--for the time being. But I don't expect to get paid for it."
James Monday turned to Cashaw. "Will you stay with the boys until I
return?"

"Well, now--"

"I want you to stay."

"That means as how I'm to stay whether I want to or not, eh?"

"You can put it that way if you wish. I want to make no trouble for you."

"Sack Todd will make trouble if he hears of this," returned the old
man dubiously.

"Then you had better keep out of sight."

"Will you return my horses and wagon?"

"Either that, or pay for the turnout."

"Then maybe I'd better go to town. I can say I stopped off at a tavern
an' sumbuddy drove off with my rig."

"Very well," returned the detective. "But, mind you, if you dare to
play me foul--"

"I won't! I won't!"

"Then you can go. But wait. Boys, let him stay here an hour. Then he
can go."

So it was arranged, and a few minutes later James Monday was on the
seat of the wagon and driving off in the style of the old man.

"He is certainly a good actor," murmured Tom, gazing after the
government official. "I declare, the two look like two peas!"

"That's a mighty risky thing to do," observed Songbird. "If Sack Todd
and his cronies discover the trick they'll stop at nothing to get
square."

"Trust Mr. Monday to take care of himself," responded Tom. "I am only
hoping he will be able to aid Sam and Dick."

"Oh, we all hope that, Tom."

The boys sat down on some partly dried rocks and began to ask the
old man about himself. But Bill Cashaw was too much disturbed mentally
to give them much satisfaction.

"Well, by hemlock!" he burst out presently.

"What's up now?" queried Tom, and all of the others looked equally
interested.

"If I didn't go an' forgit all about it."

"Forget what?"

"This letter I had fer Sack. An' that was o' prime importance, too,
so the trainman said."

As the old man spoke, he brought forth a letter which he had had
stowed away in a pocket of his shirt.

"What's in the letter?" asked Fred.

"I don't know. It's sealed up."

"I think we'd be justified in breaking it open," put in Songbird.
"Those rascals are outlaws!"

"No! no! don't break it open!" burst out Tom, and snatched the
communication from the old man's hand. "I've got a better plan."

"What plan?" came from his friends.

"Didn't you say that I looked like your son Bud?" asked Tom of Bill
Cashaw.

"I did."

"Has Bud ever been to Red Rock ranch?"

"Three or four times, but not lately."

"Does Sack Todd know him?"

"Yes, but not very well."

"Then that settles it," announced the fun-loving Rover. "I, as Bud
Cashaw, am going to deliver the letter at the ranch."

"Tom, that's too risky!" cried Fred.

"I don't think so. I can tell them that the letter was left for
father"--pointing to Bill Cashaw--"after he started for the ranch.
I don't see how they can help but swallow the story."

"Yes, but see here--" interrupted the old man. "This ain't fair. I
want you to understand--"

"I know what I am doing, Mr. Cashaw, and you had better keep quiet.
Watch him, fellows."

Without loss of time, Tom made his preparations for visiting the
mysterious ranch. He rubbed some dirt on his face and hands, disheveled
his hair and turned up one leg of his trousers. Then he borrowed the
rather large headgear that Hans wore and pulled it far down over his
head.

"How will that do?" he drawled. "Say, is my pap anywhere around this
yere ranch?"

"Mine cracious! of dot ton't beat der Irish!" gasped Hans. "Tom, you
vos make a first-class detector alretty!"

"He certainly looks like an Alabama country boy," was Fred's comment.

A few touches more to his disguise and Tom was ready to depart for
the ranch. He called Songbird aside.

"Watch that old man," he whispered. "He may not be as innocent as he
looks. Don't let him get to the ranch. If he does, our cake will be
dough."

"Of course you don't expect to catch up to the wagon," said Songbird.

"No, but if I do, I'll go ahead anyway--if Mr. Monday will let me."

It was not long after this that Tom left the others. He struck out
boldly along the poorly defined wagon trail, which led over some
rough rocks and down into hollows now filled with water. The marks
of the wagon ahead were plainly to be seen, but, though the youth
walked fast, he did not catch sight of the turnout.

It was dark by the time he came to the fence that surrounded the
ranch buildings. He saw Bill Cashaw's wagon standing under a shed.
Two men were unloading the contents. They were both strangers to Tom.

It must be admitted that Tom's heart beat rapidly as he stepped into
view and slouched toward the wagon shed. The men started in surprise
when they beheld him.

"Say, whar's my pap?" he called out. "Didn't he come in on the wagon?"

"It's Bud Cashaw," murmured one of the men. He raised his voice.
"Your old man is in the house with Sack Todd."

Tom turned toward the ranch proper and was close to a door when it
opened and Sack Todd came out and faced him. At a distance behind
the man was James Monday.

"Hullo, pap!" sang out Tom. "You forgot that letter from that train
hand--or maybe you didn't see him."

The government official stared at Tom, wondering who he could be.

"What letter?" demanded the ranch owner quickly.

"Here it is," answered Tom, and brought it forth. Sack Todd ripped
it open quickly and scanned its contents. It was short and to the point:

"Look out for government detectives. They are on your track. One is
named James Monday. There is also a fellow named Rover--beware of
him.--NUMBER 9."

Utterly unconscious of what he was doing, Tom had played directly
into the hands of Sack Todd and his evil associates.



CHAPTER XXV

IN WHICH TOM IS EXPOSED

"Boy, who gave you this letter?" demanded the owner of Red Rock ranch,
after he had read the communication through twice.

His look was a stern one, and his gaze seemed to bore Tom through
and through. Yet the lad did not flinch. He felt that he must play
his part to the end.

"Feller give it at the house fer pap," he drawled. "Pap, he fergot
to bring it. So I hustled off to do it."

"Humph! A nice way to treat a letter of importance," muttered Sack
Todd. He gave Tom another close look. "Who told you your dad was
coming here?"

"Oh, I guessed that," drawled Tom.

"Come in the house. I must question your father about this."

"I didn't mean no harm, Mr. Todd!" cried the youth in pretended alarm.
"Ain't it all' right?"

"Yes. Come in."

Sack Todd pushed Tom toward the doorway of the ranch, and the youth
went inside. He looked around for the government official, but that
individual was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Bill Cashaw?" asked the ranch owner of two men who were
present.

"I don't know--getting something to drink, I reckon," answered one
of the men. "He was standing around a minute ago."

"Sit down here," said Sack Todd, turning to Tom and at the same time
motioning to a chair. "I'll be back in a minute."

He disappeared through a doorway and the fun-loving Rover sat down.
He was in no easy frame of mind, for he could plainly see that the
letter had disturbed the ranch owner greatly and that the man was
suspicious.

"I hope I haven't made a mess of it," he reasoned. "I wonder where
Sam and Dick are?"

Had he had an opportunity, he would have left the room and taken a
look around the place, but the strange men were there, and they
evidently had their eyes on him.

Tom had been sitting quietly for five minutes, thinking matters over,
when a side door opened and a young man smoking a cigarette came in.
On seeing Tom, he stared in wonder and allowed his cigarette to drop
to the floor.

"Tom Rover! How did you get here?"

It was Dan Baxter, as impudent and hard-faced as ever. He came a step
closer and fairly glared at Tom.

For one brief instant, Tom's self-possession deserted him. Then he
recovered and stared boldly at Baxter.

"Say, what you a-talkin' about?" he drawled.

"Eh?"

"What you a-talkin' about? I don't know you--never see you before."

"Well, if that ain't the limit!" burst out the bully. "You don't know
me!"

"An' my name ain't Tim Drover," went on Tom, purposely mispronouncing
the name.

"Go to grass, Tom Rover! You can't play any game on me. I know you
too well, even in that outfit."

At that moment Sack Todd returned. He was surprised to find Dan Baxter
talking to Tom.

"Do you know Bud Cashaw?" he questioned.

"Bud Cashaw? Who is he?"

"This is Bud."

"Not much! Do you know who this is? Tom Rover, the brother I was
telling you about."

"Tom Rover!" almost shouted the owner of Red Rock ranch. "Are you
certain of this?"

"Yes. Didn't I go to school with him? I know him as well as I know
my own father."

Sack Todd glared at Tom and gave him a close inspection. Then he
shook the youth fiercely.

"So this is your style, eh?" he snarled. "First your brothers come
to spy on us, and now you! If I had my way--" he stopped short. "Where
did you get that letter, answer me!"

"Wasn't it all right?" drawled Tom. He scarcely knew how to act.

"Answer me, Rover. I want no more beating about the bush."

"It belongs to Bill Cashaw. Isn't he here?"

"Ha!" Sack Todd looked around. "Come here," he cried to his men.
"Watch this boy and don't let him get away under any circumstances.
I must find Bill Cashaw! Perhaps it isn't Bill, after all!"

One of the men came forward and caught hold of Tom, while Dan Baxter
also ranged by the prisoner's side. To attempt to break away would
have been useless, and Tom did not try it.

"You'll catch it now," said the bully maliciously.

"Where are Sam and Dick?"

"That remains for you to find out."

"They seem to carry things with a high hand here."

"It's Sack Todd's ranch, and he has a right to do as he pleases. He
didn't invite you or the others to come," returned Dan Baxter with
a scowl.

In the meantime, the owner of Red Rock ranch was hurrying around in
search of the supposed Bill Cashaw. He visited the kitchen and the
other rooms, and then ran to the barn and other outbuildings. But it
was all useless; the driver of the wagon could not be found.

"I want all of you to hunt for the wagon driver," stormed the ranch
owner. "He must be found!"

"What's wrong now?" asked Andy Jimson.

"Everything. I've just got a warning. Read it."

The long-nosed man did so, and drew down the corners of his mouth.

"This looks bad," he said. "Well, you've got the three Rovers right
enough. You think--"

"That wagon driver may not be Bill Cashaw at all."

"Worse and worse, Sack. We must find him, by all means."

The search was taken up with renewed care, and four men kept at it
for over an hour. Then the crowd assembled in the main room of the ranch.

"He has run away and left the horses and wagon behind," said Sack Todd.

"I thought he acted rather queer," put in one of the men. "I asked
him about Cal Jessup, and he didn't seem to want to answer."

"He was a spy--there is not the least doubt of it," came from Andy
Jimson. "More than likely, he was a government detective."

While the men were talking the matter over, there was the sound of
hoof strokes on the road leading to the ranch door, and a horseman
came up, nearly out of breath from hard riding.

"What's the news, Phil?" shouted Sack Todd. "Nothing wrong, I hope."

"Snapper has been arrested and a detective is on your trail," shouted
back the horseman. "I was afraid I'd be too late. You want to get
ready to vamoose."

The men of the ranch crowded around the new-comer and plied him with
questions. Tom tried to catch all that was said, but was unable to do so.

"We'll have to make short work of this, I am afraid," he heard Sack
Todd say, a little later.

"What about the boy?" questioned the long-nosed man.

"He ought to be shot!" was the cold-blooded reply, which made Tom shiver.

"Shall we put him with the rest?"

"Yes."

Without ceremony, poor Tom was marched away to the trap-door, a man
on each side of him. Dan Baxter came behind.

"You don't like it, do you?" sneered the bully. "You'll like it still
less when you get below. It's beautifully damp and musty."

"You're a cheerful brute, Dan," answered Tom.

"Hi! don't you call me a brute!" stormed Baxter.

"Oh, excuse me, I didn't mean to insult the dumb creation," responded
Tom. "Baxter, you are the limit. I suppose you have joined this gang."

"What if I have?"

"I am sorry for you, that's all."

"Oh, don't preach!"

"I am not going to, for it would be a waste of breath."

"You'll sing pretty small by the time we are through with you,"
growled the bully; and then Tom was led below and placed in the cell
with the others.



CHAPTER XXVI

TOGETHER ONCE MORE

"Tom!"

"Dick and Sam!"

"How in the world did you get here?"

"Where are the others?"

These and a dozen other questions were asked and answered as the
three Rover boys shook hands over and over again. Even though prisoners,
they were delighted to be together once more, and doubly delighted
to know that each was well.

"Oh, these chaps are first-class rascals," said Dick after they had
settled down a bit. "They have treated us most shamefully. At first,
they gave us pretty good eating, but now they are starving us."

"Starving you?" cried Tom.

"Yes--they want us to tell all we know," put in Sam. "They are very
suspicious."

"Didn't you try to get away?"

"No use of trying. The walls are too solid and so is the door," said
Dick. He caught Tom by the arm and added in a faint whisper in his
brother's ear: "They are listening. We have a hole."

"Then we'll have to stay here," said Tom loudly, catching his cue
instantly.

"Yes, and it's a shame," added Sam in an equally loud voice. "I
suppose the others have gone on?"

"Certainly," said Tom calmly. "I was a chump to remain behind--only
I wanted to find you. I got hold of a letter by accident."

A moment later, they heard the guards walk away, and then Tom told
the truth about the letter, and Sam and Dick led him to the hole in
the wall.

"It is not quite big enough to use, yet," whispered the eldest Rover.
"But we hope to have it big enough by to-morrow. It's slow work, when
you have got to be on your guard all the while."

"I'd like to know what became of the detective," returned Tom.

"He must have run away as soon as he saw how affairs were shaping,"
put in Dick. "I hope he rounds up the whole gang."

"So do I, and Dan Baxter with them," answered Tom.

Overhead, they could hear a constant tramping of feet and murmur of
voices. They tried to make out what was being said, but could not.

Left to themselves, the three Rovers turned to the opening that had
been made in the wall. A match was lit for a moment, so that Tom
could see just what had been done, and then all three set to work to
continue the task. It was certainly hard work, and their progress
was exasperatingly slow.

"If we only had a pick or a crowbar we could get these stones out in
no time," grunted Tom, as he pulled away with all his strength.

The noise overhead continued, and a little later they heard some men
come down in another portion of the cellar.

"We must save the plates, at all events," they heard Sack Todd say.
"We can't duplicate them, now old Messmer is dead."

"Yes, save the plates, by all means," put in Andy Jimson.

"Do you think the ranch is surrounded?" asked another of the crowd.

"It may be."

"Then the sooner we get out, the better," growled another.

The men passed on, so that the Rover boys could not hear more of the
talk.

"I believe they are going to leave the place," whispered Sam excitedly.

"If they go, what will they do with us?" put in Tom.

"Perhaps they will force us to go with them," answered Dick.

There was now more bustle and confusion about the ranch, and they
heard a wagon drive up to a door, load up and drive away again. Then
some horses were brought up from the stable.

"Something is doing, that is certain," murmured Dick.

He had scarcely spoken when there was a movement at the door of the
cell and, by the light of a lantern, the boys found themselves
confronted by Sack Todd, Andy Jimson and Dan Baxter.

"So you think the youngest is the best to take along," said Sack Todd
to Baxter.

"Yes; the family think more of him than of any one," answered the bully.

"All right. Sam Rover, come out of that!"

"What do you want me for?" asked the youngest Rover.

"I want to talk to you."

Sam walked from the cell, and the door was at once fastened as before.
Then Sack Todd caught the youth by the arm.

"Now, march upstairs, and be lively about it. We have no time to waste."

"But--"

"No 'buts' now, Rover. We'll talk later on," growled the ranch owner
savagely. "Just now I've got my mind full of other things."

Sam was led to the main floor of the ranch, and then without ado his
hands were fastened behind him. Then he was told to march outside.
Here two light wagons were in waiting, and he was bundled into one,
along with Jimson and another man, and Dan Baxter. The other wagon
was loaded with boxes and driven by two men. Several horses stood
by, saddled for use.

"Where are we going?" asked the youngest Rover.

"To the North Pole," chuckled Dan Baxter. "Don't you wish you knew!"

"Are all the men going to leave?"

"That's their business, not yours."

"You are very kind, Baxter. I guess you don't know yourself."

"Don't I, though? Why, I'm right hand-and-hand with this crowd,"
added the bully boastfully.

"Maybe you only think you are."

"Huh! I know what I am doing."

"You've said that before--and got tripped up, just the same."

"There won't be any trip-up about this."

"Don't be too sure."

"See here," spoke up Andy Jimson. "When we get on the road, all of
you have got to keep quiet."

"All right, mum's the world, old man," answered Dan Baxter cheerfully.

"Did you hear?" demanded the long-nosed man, looking at Sam.

"I did."

"Are you going to mind?"

"I am not your slave."

"Humph! Do you know what Todd said to me? He said: 'If the kid won't
keep quiet when you tell him, shoot him.' How do you like that?"

"I don't like it."

"I am going to run no chances with you," continued Andy Jimson. "You
have got to keep very quiet. Don't you open your mouth once after we
get started. I've got a pistol handy, and I know how to use it."

In the meantime, several from the ranch were walking around, talking
in low, excited tones. Then, from a distance, came a shot, followed
by two more in rapid succession.

"The signal!" cried Sack Todd. "Boys, something is doing now, sure.
We must get away, and at once. Are you all ready?"

There was a chorus of assents.

"I think we had better divide. The wagons can go by the honey-tree
route, and those on horseback by the swamp road. We can meet at the
Four Rocks tomorrow, if all goes well."

So it was agreed, and soon some of the horsemen were off, each carrying
a load of some kind. Then the wagons began to move, that with the
load of boxes going first. The turnouts plunged at once into the
woods, where the darkness was intense. They made scarcely any noise,
for the wagons were rubber-tired and the horses wore rubber guards
on their shoes.

It would be hard to analyze Sam's feelings as he realized that he
was being taken away from the ranch, he knew not to where. To escape
in the darkness was out of the question, for the man who sat beside
him had his arm linked into his own. More than this, he felt sure
that Andy Jimson would shoot him at the first sign of trouble.

The wagon road wound around in the forest, and was in anything but
good repair, so that poor Sam was jounced about until he felt sore
all over. He did not dare to speak, and, truth to tell, he did not
know what to say. He realized that if he asked what was to become of
his brothers, nobody would tell him.

Presently the wagon began to climb a slight hill. The horses tugged
away manfully, but were exhausted when the top of the rise was gained,
and had to rest.

"Hullo, what's that?" exclaimed Dan Baxter as he gazed back in the
direction of the ranch.

"Shut up," answered the long-nosed man warningly.

Sam could not help but look back. The top of the rise was almost bare
of trees, so his view was a perfect one. The sight that met his gaze
caused his heart to sink with a sickening dread.

Red Rock ranch was in flames!

"Tom and Dick!" he murmured to himself. "If they are still prisoners,
what will become of them?"



CHAPTER XXVII

THE BURNING OF THE RANCH

Left to themselves, Tom and Dick scarcely knew what to do for the
time being. What was to become of Sam they did not know, but they
felt that the outlook was darker than ever.

"Dick, we must get out!" cried Tom at length. "I can't stand this
sort of thing."

"I can't stand it myself. But how are we going to get out? That door
is like the wall, for strength."

There was more noise overhead, but presently this ceased, and all
became as quiet as a tomb.

"What do you make of it, now?" came from the fun-loving Rover.

"I think they have left the ranch, Tom."

"Left--for good?"

"Perhaps. They know that James Monday will make it warm for them.
That letter put them on their guard."

"What a fool I was to deliver it, Dick! I ought to be kicked for
doing it. If we had only opened it and read it!"

"The others must still be on the watch."

"Yes, unless they, too, have been captured."

The boys returned to the hole in the wall and, to occupy themselves,
dug away at it harder than ever. Another stone was loosened and pulled
into the cell.

"We're making a little progress, anyway," sighed Tom.

"Hark! I hear something," said Dick a little later. "Listen!"

They stopped their work and both strained their ears. A curious
roaring and crackling came from overhead.

"That's odd," mused Tom. "What do you make of it?"

"I am almost afraid to say, Tom."

"Afraid?"

"Yes. If it is what I think, we may be doomed," went on the eldest
Rover seriously.

"Dick! What do you think it is?"

"The crackling of flames. They have set the ranch on fire."

"Would they do that--and leave us here? It is--is inhuman."

"Those men are desperate characters, Tom, and they'd stop at nothing."

They continued to listen, and soon the roaring and crackling grew
plainer. Then came a dull thud as some timbers fell, and a current
of air carried some smoke into the cell.

"We must get out--somehow, some way!" cried Dick. "If we don't, we'll
be caught like beasts in a cage." A sudden thought struck him. "Tom,
take up one of the stones."

Dick lit what was left of the candle-wick as he spoke and placed it
on the bench. Then he took up the other stone.

"Now, aim for the lock of the door," he went on, "and both throw
together. Ready?"

"Yes."

"One, two, three!"

Crash! Both large stones hit the door with tremendous force. The
barrier was split from end to end, but still held firm.

"Again!" cried Dick, and once more the stones were hurled in mad
desperation. There was an-other crash, and the door tottered and came
away from the lock. Then Tom threw his weight against it and it burst
open fully.

A rush of hot air and smoke greeted them as they leaped into the
passageway. Looking up, they saw that the flooring above was already
burning.

"We can't go up through the trap-door," said Dick. "We have got to
find some other way out."

"Is there another way?"

"I don't know. Come."

The passageway ran in both directions. They felt their way along for
ten feet, to find themselves against another wall.

"The other way!" sang out Tom. "Phew! it's getting pretty warm down
here, isn't it?"

"And smoky," answered his brother, beginning to cough.

They passed the cell again and started down the passageway in the
opposite direction. Twenty feet further on they reached a wooden
door, bolted on the other side.

"Stumped again," muttered Tom. "Dick, what shall we do now?"

"Try to break it down. Now, then, with all your might, Tom!"

It was their only hope, and with increased energy they hurled themselves
at the door, which bent and creaked. Then, at the fourth onslaught,
the door flew open and they went sprawling into the underground
chamber beyond.

Here the light from the blazing building could be plainly seen, and
by this they made out that they were in a regular printing office.
Three foot-power presses were there, also a quantity of variously
colored inks and packages of odd-colored paper.

But they could waste no time in investigating.  The burning brands
were dropping around them, and they leaped across the printing room
to where they saw another passageway. This had a door, but the barrier
stood wide open.

"In you go!" sang out Dick. "It must lead somewhere--and, anyway, we
can't stay here."

They rushed into the passageway, not an instant too soon, for a second
later there came another crash and the printing room was filled with
sparks and bits of burning timber. Then a cloud of smoke all but
choked them.

Half-blinded, and scarcely knowing what they were doing, the two
Rover boys ran on and on, down the passageway. It had several crooks
and turns, and more than once they brought up against some stones
and dirt in anything but an agreeable fashion. But they felt that
they were getting away from the fire and smoke, and that just then
meant everything to them.

At last, the danger from the conflagration seemed to be passed, and
they slackened their pace, and finally came to a halt. Both were out
of breath.

"Whe--where does this lead to?" gasped Tom.

"That's a riddle, Tom. But I know it has taken us away from the fire,
which is a blessing."

"Dick, we have had a narrow escape."

"Right you are."

"Those rascals meant to burn us up!"

"They were afraid we knew too much about their affairs."

"They ought to go to jail for this, and Dan Baxter with them."

"I wish we were out of this passageway and could find the rest of
our crowd."

"We must find a way out."

This was easier said than done. They went on once more, and soon,
without warning, stepped into water up to their knees.

"Back!" cried Dick, who was in advance. "We don't want to get drowned.
That would be as bad as being burnt up."

"We can swim," answered Tom as he scrambled back.

"True, but I want to know where I am swimming to, don't you?"

Tom got out his waterproof match safe and found that it contained
just one match. This was lit, and then he set fire to some leaves
from a notebook in his pocket. By this light, they saw another turn
of the passageway, leading upward.

"That must be a way out," exclaimed Tom, and started in the direction,
followed by his brother.

"Now, go slow," warned Dick when they were once more in darkness,
the paper having burnt itself out. "We don't want to run into any
more danger, if we can avoid it."

"I am on my guard," answered Tom.

They soon found that the side passage narrowed greatly, so that they
had to proceed in single file and with heads bent. They moved with
their hands in front of their heads, so as to avoid a possible
collision with the rocks along the way.

Presently Dick's hand came in contact with something long and
straggling. He drew back, thinking he had touched a snake. But then
he grew bolder and found it to be a tree root.

"That shows we are close to the surface of the ground," said he. "If
the worst comes to the worst, I fancy we can dig our way upward with
our hands."

"Maybe, but we don't want this roof to cave in on us, Dick. Come on."

They continued to go forward, but now the passageway was so small
that they had to crawl on their hands and knees.

"This looks as if we were going to be blocked, after all," said Tom.

"Something is ahead," whispered Dick. "Be quiet!"

"What do you see?"

"There is an opening, and I can see a little light, and, what is
more, I hear the sounds of voices. Maybe we have run into our enemies
again!"



CHAPTER XXVIII

FROM ONE SURPRISE TO ANOTHER

Left to themselves in the woods, Fred, Songbird and Hans scarcely
knew what to do to fill in their time.

"I must say, I don't like this dividing up at all," remarked Fred,
after a half-hour had passed. "First it was Sam and Dick, and now it
is Tom. After a while none of us will know where any of the others
are. Even the dog has left us." It may be added here that they never
saw Wags again.

"Vell, you can't vos plame Tom for drying to find his brudders," came
from Hans. "I vos do dot mineselluf, of I peen him."

"I hope Tom steers clear of trouble," said Songbird. "You know how
he is--the greatest hand for getting into mischief."

The time dragged heavily on their hands, and when it grew dark not
one of them felt like retiring. Songbird tried to put on a cheerful
front, but it was a dismal failure, and nobody listened to the rhymes
he made half under his breath. 230

At last came a whistle, repeated several times in rapid succession.
Then a form emerged out of the darkness.

"Who goes there?" shouted Fred.

"Hullo, boys!" was the answering cry, and James Monday came into the
little clearing. "I was afraid I had lost my way."

"Didn't you see Tom?" they asked.

"Yes, I saw him--up to the ranch. He came with a letter, and that
spoilt about everything, for it was a warning. They found out who he
was through that Baxter and made him a prisoner. Then I had to sneak
away, for I knew they were after me, too."

"Found out you wasn't me, eh?" put in Bill Cashaw. "Thought they
might. That crowd is a clever one. Where's my wagon and horses?"

"I had to leave them behind. Here are your hat and coat. I'll thank
you to give me my own," went on the government official, and the
exchange was quickly made.

The boys asked James Monday many questions, which he answered as best
he could. But he was in a hurry, and told them so.

"I want to watch that ranch," he said. "But I'd like one of you to
ride to town as hard as you can and take a message for me."

"I'll take the message, if there is anything in it," came quickly
from Bill Cashaw.

"No, I want one of the boys to take it. You can go along, if you
wish," went on James Monday. He was not quite willing to trust the
old man.

The matter was discussed hurriedly, and it was decided that Fred
should carry the message, and it was written on a slip of paper which
the boy tucked away in an inside pocket. Then off he and the old man
started for town, both on horseback.

"The gang at the ranch is a desperate one," said the government
official when the pair were gone. "The most I can hope to do is to
watch them until help arrives."

"Then you sent for help?" asked Songbird.

"Yes, and if the message is properly delivered, the help will not be
long in arriving."

The detective wanted to move closer to the ranch, and Hans and Songbird
did as requested, taking the horses with them. They were as anxious
to make a move as was the detective, but just then there seemed
nothing to do but to wait.

Suddenly Songbird uttered a cry.

"I smell smoke! Can the forest be on fire?"

"Of it vos, ve had besser git owit kvick!" ejaculated Hans. "I ton't
vont to burn up, nohow!"

"I see a light," returned James Monday. He ran to where there was a
cleared space. "I believe the ranch is on fire!" he gasped.

"It is so!" exclaimed Songbird. "I can see the flames plainly. Now,
how did that happen?"

"I don't know. Let us draw closer. I want to see what Sack Todd and
his crowd will do."

The government official hurried forward and the two boys followed
him, bringing along the horses as before. Soon they were at a spot
where they could see the conflagration plainly. To their astonishment,
not a soul appeared around the ranch or the outbuildings.

"What does this mean?" asked Songbird. "That gang certainly can't be
in the burning building.

"I know what it means!" cried the detective, and there was something
like anguish in his voice. "They have abandoned the ranch and set
fire to it!"

"Abandoned the ranch?" repeated Songbird.

"Den vot of der Rofer poys?" asked the German youth.

"Don't ask me," said the detective. "They may have escaped, or else--"
He did not finish.

"Do you mean those rascals might leave them in the ranch, prisoners?"
asked Songbird.

"It's a hard thing to say, but you know as mush as I do. This knocks
my last plan endways. I must see if I can't get on the trail of the
gang that has run away," James Monday added. "Will you let me have
one of the horses?"

"Certainly. But--"

"Unless I act quickly, those men may get miles and miles away, and
then it will be next to impossible to round them up," continued the
government official. "I must go after Fred Garrison and hurry along
that extra help."

"Where shall we meet you?"

"I can't tell, exactly. We might--Hullo, what's that?"

A peculiar sound close at hand caused the detective to pause. They
heard a flat rock fall down, and then, to their amazement, saw two
dirty and begrimed persons emerge from a hole in the ground.

"Who vos dot?" gasped Hans, ready to retreat in fright.

"Hullo, Hans!" cried Tom Rover. "Don't you know Dick and me? We just
arrived by the new subway."

"Tom and Dick!" ejaculated Songbird. "Truly, I must be dreaming!"

"But you are not," came from Dick as he stepped closer. "Oh, but I'm
glad to get out of that hole!" he added. "And glad to fall among
friends once more."

"Hullo, Mr. Monday," said Tom. "So you escaped, after all? That's
good. Have any of you seen anything of Sam?"

"Sam?" asked Songbird. "Wasn't he with you?"

"He was, but the counterfeiters carried him off with them when they
left the ranch."

"Then he must still be a prisoner."

"Yes."

"When we first heard your voices, we thought we had run into some of
our enemies," said Dick. "We were mighty glad to learn otherwise.
Now, if Sam was only here--"

"We must find him!" broke in Tom. "And the sooner we get on the trail,
the better."

"I was just going away to hurry along some help," came from James
Monday. "Maybe all of you had better remain in the forest on guard
until I get back. If you spread out, you may learn something."

A little later, the government official hurried off on one of the
horses, leaving the boys to themselves. Tom and Dick brushed off
their clothing and washed up in a nearby pool of water.

"I think the best thing we can do is to move over to one of the wagon
roads," said Dick. "We'll never discover anything in a spot like this."

They moved along, taking turns at riding on the horses left to them.
They were still a short distance from one of the trails, when they
caught sight of a lantern's gleam, and soon after they heard the low
murmur of voices.

"Somebody is over there, that is certain," whispered Dick. "Don't
make any noise, fellows!"

Almost holding their breath, they crawled forward through the
undergrowth and between the rocks, and presently gained a point where
they could see the outline of a wagon. The vehicle had lost one wheel,
and they could see three persons moving around it, inspecting the
damage done.

"This is the worst luck yet," they heard a man exclaim.

"Well, why didn't you look out for ruts?" said another.

"Look out? How could I look out in such a pitchy darkness?"

"What's to be done?" asked a third voice.

"I don't know, unless we unhook the team and take turns at riding
horseback," was the reply.

At this juncture, Dick clutched Tom by the arm.

"Two of those fellows are that Jimson and Dan Baxter!" he whispered.
"And do you know who is in the wagon, on the rear seat?"

"No."

"Sam."



CHAPTER XXIX

ON THE TRAIL ONCE MORE

Dick and Tom were delighted to think that they had gotten on the
trail of their brother thus readily, and they and their friends
withdrew for a short distance, that they might hold a consultation
without being overheard by their enemies.

"You are sure it's Sam?" questioned Songbird. "I must say it was so
dark I couldn't see him."

"I saw him plainly, just as the lantern was flashed his way," answered
Dick. "He had his hands behind him. More than likely they are tied
fast, or handcuffed."

"Well, what do you propose?" came from Tom. "I move we go in and
attack our enemies rough-shod. It is what they deserve."

"I second the motion," put in Songbird.

"Dot is vell enough to dalk apout," put in Hans. "Put blease ton't
forgot dat da pistols haf got, und da can shoot, hey?"

"You've got a pistol, too, Hans."

"Dot is so."

"And I've got one," went on Songbird.

"Dick and I can get rocks and sticks," said Tom. "We'll make it warm
for them."

A few words more, and Dick and Tom man-aged to find some sticks and
stones which suited their purpose. Then they moved forward once again.

At that moment came a cry from a distance, followed by a pistol shot.
The men around the broken-down wagon were instantly on their guard,
with pistols and a shotgun.

"Shoot the first man who tries to corner us!" shouted Andy Jimson.
"Don't take any chances."

"Wait!" cried Dick to Tom, who was on the point of exposing himself.
"Don't show yourself now. Help may be at hand. Besides, those men
will shoot as soon as they see us, now."

"What did that shot mean?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was a signal."

"If we could only let Sam know that we are at hand."

Further words were cut short by another shot, and a moment later four
men came riding up at top speed along the wagon trail.

"Hullo, what's up here?" came in the voice of Sack Todd.

"Had a break-down," growled Andy Jimson. "What are you shooting for?"

"Just got word that somebody has gone to town for assistance to round
us up. We must change our plans. You'll have to let the wagon stay
where it is and take to the horses. Luckily, we have some extra ones
along. Be quick."

"What of the prisoner?"

"We'd better let him go."

"Don't you do it!" cried Dan Baxter. "I tell you, you can make money
by holding him."

"I'd like to wring Baxter's neck for that!" muttered Tom.

"All right, then, take him along--at least, for the present," said
Sack Todd. "But don't waste time. Here are the horses."

The transfer from the wagon to the horses was quickly accomplished.
Sam was made to mount a steed, and Andy Jimson rode on one side of
him and Dan Baxter on the other. The rest of the men rode in front
and in the rear, and soon the spot where the break-down had occurred
was left behind.

"Now, what's to do?" asked Tom ruefully. He realized, as well as the
others, that it would have been useless to have attacked such a large
crowd.

"There is but one thing to do, Tom: follow them. As soon as they
locate, we can go back for help. They can't travel more than twenty-four
hours without stopping, and I believe they'll go into hiding as soon
as it is daylight."

With care, they advanced on the trail of those ahead. This was a
rather difficult task, for the lantern had been put out, and it was
pitch-dark tinder the trees. More than once their steeds went into
a hollow with a jounce that threatened to throw one or another to
the ground.

"If only James Monday would appear with about ten men," sighed Tom.
"Couldn't we make it warm for those chaps!"

"He won't be coming back for a long time," said Songbird. "He is no
wizard, even if he is a detective. It is only in the sensational,
five-cent libraries that the noble detective turns up every time he
is needed."

"Yes, and kills about ten men hand-running," added Tom with a laugh.

At the end of an hour's ride through the forest, all of the boys were
so fagged out they could scarcely keep on horseback. It must be
remembered that they had to take turns at riding, there not being
enough steeds to go around.

"I wish they'd come to a stop," muttered Songbird. "I declare, if I
ever get the chance, I'm going to rest for a week!"

"Ton't say a vord," groaned Hans. "I vos so lame I can't most sit up
alretty!"

"Let us be thankful if they don't discover that we are following
them," said Dick. "If they did find it out, they would certainly make
it warm for us."

A little while later the forest was left behind, and the party ahead
and that in the rear came out on the broad and rolling prairies. It
was growing cloudy, so that the boys kept their enemies in sight with
difficulty, not daring to draw too close.

Far away, they could see the lights of a town gleaming, but these
were soon lost to view around a bit of rising ground. Then they forded
a small stream and began to climb the slope of a small hill, at the
top of which were a series of rocks. Here they fancied the counterfeiters
might halt, but they were disappointed. The crowd ahead toiled over
the hill and then struck off across an-other section of the rolling
plains.

"I can't ride much further," said Tom at last. "I am so tired I am
ready to drop."

"Ditto here," came from Songbird.

Nevertheless, they kept on, and thus was the shadowing continued
until four o'clock in the morning, when the party ahead came to a
patch of timber on the side of a steep hill. Here, among the trees
and rocks, they went into a temporary camp.

The boys had come as close as they dared, and reaching a convenient
hillock with a clump of bushes, dismounted and threw themselves on
the ground.

"They are going into camp, sure enough," announced Dick after a
careful inspection. "Now, the question arises: what is best to do next?"

"I know what ought to be done," answered his brother, "but I am too
tired to do it."

"Go for help?" asked Songbird.

"Exactly. But I could no more ride back to town than I could fly."

"Dot is vot's der madder mit me," put in Hans. "I could schleep
standing ub, ain't it!"

"Well, I'll go for help, then," said Dick. "But I must have one of
the horses."

"Take the best of them, Dick."

The eldest Rover inspected the animals, and finally chose one that
looked fairly fresh.

"Now, mind, don't get into more trouble while I am gone," he said.
"If they move on, simply keep them in sight."

A few minutes later, Dick took his departure, moving straight for
the town they had seen earlier in the night. He knew nothing of the
trails, but trusted to luck not to go astray.

"I've got to make that town," he told himself. "And do it without
wasting time, too."

Soon he found himself utterly alone on the plains, and, urging his
horse forward at the steed's best rate of speed--a gallop that was
anything but easy to the worn-out youth. But Dick was not thinking
of himself. His mind was on Sam, and how his youngest brother might
be rescued.

"Whoa, there!"

The command was a most unexpected one, coming from out of the darkness,
and at the word Dick's horse came to a standstill. For the instant
the youth could see nobody, but then two horsemen hove into sight,
each heavily armed.

At first, Dick could not make out who they were, but as they drew
nearer his heart sank within him. One of the newcomers was a man he
had seen working around Red Rock ranch and the other was the negro
called Watermelon Pete, the fellow who had given the Rovers trouble
while on the houseboat.



CHAPTER XXX

A ROUND-UP-CONCLUSION

The man from Red Rock ranch was very much startled to see Dick, and
stared at the youth for several seconds without speaking.

The eldest Rover thought for an instant of putting his horse to
flight, but then realized with a pang that the animal would not be
equal to the task.

"Where under the sun did you come from?" growled the man at last.

"It's dat same fellah!" cried Watermelon Pete. "I dun see him on de
ribber an' at de ranch, too!"

"Yes, the fellow who was left in a cell at Red Rock," returned the
white man. "How did you escape?" he went on, to Dick.

"Smashed the door and came out in a hurry," answered Dick. He saw no
harm in telling the truth.

"Where is your brother?"

"What business is that of yours?"

"Don't get funny with me," growled the man.

"Are you alone?" he continued, peering around in the darkness.

"You had better find out."

"Why don't you finish him off, Puller?" came from the negro. "Ain't
nobody else around."

"You're a fine rascal!" burst out Dick. "If you touch me, there is
going to be trouble."

"I reckon you'll come with me," said the white man harshly. "We ain't
goin' to run no risks, understand? If you put anybody on our trail--"
He did not finish. "Face around there!" he ordered.

"See here, do you think you are treating me fairly?" asked Dick. He
wished to gain time, so that he could think matters over and decide
what was best to do.

"I won't parley the question," growled the man. "Face around and do
it quick, if you want to save your hide."

There was no help for it, and Dick faced around. As he did so, he
caught the sounds of hoof strokes at a distance. Puller and Water-melon
Pete did not appear to notice them.

"Wait a minute, I dropped something," said the eldest Rover, and slid
to the ground. He pre-tended to search around. "Got a light?"

"What did you drop?"

"Something valuable," said Dick, but did not add that it was only a
harness buckle. He was straining his ears and heard the hoof strokes
coming closer.

"Well, hurry up and find it. We are not going to stay here until the
sun comes up," growled Puller.

A moment later, the sounds of horses approaching could be heard
plainly. Dick began to cough loudly, but the ears of the negro could
not be deceived.

"Listen!" he said warningly. "Hosses comin', suah as yo' is boahn!"

"Horses?" cried the white man. "Then we had better make tracks."

"Who is there?" cried Dick at the top of his voice. If they were
enemies, he knew he could be no worse off.

"Shut your mouth!" howled the white man.

"Hullo!" was the answering call, and in a moment several men dashed
up, all heavily armed, and accompanied by James Monday and Fred Garrison.

"Help!" called out Dick. "Don't let them get away!"

"They are not going to catch me!" growled Puller, and struck his
horse in the side. The animal bounded forward and was followed by
that on which the negro was riding. Scarcely had this been done when
a shot rang out and the negro fell from his saddle to the ground.

"Halt, in the name of the law!" cried James Monday to Puller, but
the man paid no attention. Several shots were fired at him, but soon
the gloom of early morning hid him from view.

"I'm more than glad that you have come," cried Dick to the government
official and Fred. "How did you get here so quickly?"

"It was mostly luck," answered the detective. "Garrison delivered
the message to just the right party and I ran into the crowd just
coming away from the town. We have got nine men here, and all willing
to do their utmost to round up that Red Rock ranch gang."

It was soon learned that Watermelon Pete had been hit in the thigh.
The wound was not a fatal one, but it was destined to put the rascal
in the hospital for some time to come.

"You must follow that fellow who got away, and at once," said Dick
to James Monday, and then he told of what had happened during the
night and of where Sack Todd and his confederates were located.