[Illustration: "THAT MUST SURELY HAVE BEEN TAKEN IN ALASKA," SAID SAM.
_The Rover Boys in Alaska._]

"Lost in the ice fields!" went on Tom.  "How terrible!"

The play went on.  The young gold hunter and his partner were almost
frozen to death, when the scene shifted to the mining camp.  Word of
the robbery was brought in by an Indian, and the father of the girl
organized a rescuing party, taking his daughter and half a dozen men
with him.  On the way they ran across the villain and his cronies,
frozen stiff in the ice and snow and with the stolen nuggets in their
possession.  Then the rescuing party went on, until they reached the
young gold hunter and his partner just in time to save them from death.
The young man was given his nuggets, and he asked for the hand of the
girl who had aided in the search; and all ended happily.

"Well, that was certainly a great play!" was Spud's comment, as the
students left the photo playhouse.  "Wow! it made me fairly shiver to
look at that snow and those fields of ice!"

"It was just as if a fellow was there," said Sam.

"Think of the work of taking those films!" said Bob Grimes.  "I'll
wager the photographer had pretty cold fingers!"

Thus the talk ran on, all of the students being enthusiastic over the
production.  The only one who was rather quiet was Tom, and soon Sam
noticed this.

"What's the matter, Tom; don't you feel well?" he asked, anxiously.

"Nothing extra," was the answer, and Tom put his hands to his eyes.  "I
guess that moving picture strained my head too much.  But it was
great--best picture I ever saw!  Say, I'd like to go to Alaska once,
wouldn't you, Sam?"

"Yes, but not to be caught in the ice and snow like that," returned the
younger Rover boy.  "Say, it's a good show for the girls, all right,"
he went on.

"Fine.  We'll take 'em as soon as we can arrange it."

All the way back to Brill the students talked about the wonderful
Alaskan film, which had really been taken on the spot and had cost a
good deal of money.  Evidently in opening the new photo playhouse
Messrs. Carr and Beckwith had resolved to give the audiences their
money's worth.

It was a good advertisement, too, for not only did the town people
flock to the place, but the college students told their friends, and
the next evening a score or more of the boys attended the performance.
The dimes flowed in steadily, much to the delight of the owners of the
project.

That evening Sam noticed that Tom was quite feverish and he advised his
brother to take an extra pill, to quiet him.

"Oh, all I need is sleep," said Tom.  "That picture hurt my eyes a
little.  After they are rested I'll be all right."  And then he
undressed and retired.

Sam had been asleep about two hours when he awoke with a start.  He sat
up, and in the dim light of the room saw his brother thrashing wildly
in the bed.

"Give me the nuggets!" murmured poor Tom, in a nightmare.  "I must have
the money!  Ha, the biggest nugget in Alaska!"  He clutched at the
pillow.  "Out of my way, I say!  It is mine!  Look, it is snowing!
Where is the trail?  We are lost!  See the ice and snow!  Lost! lost!
lost!"  And Tom floundered around more wildly than ever.

Sam leaped out of bed, and, catching his brother by the arm, shook him
vigorously.

"Tom!  Tom! wake up!" he cried.  "You're asleep!  Wake up!  You are not
in Alaska!  Wake up!"

"Oh, the ice and snow!  And the trail is lost!  We shall die!  Can
nothing save----  Er--er--eh?  What's the--the matter?" stammered Tom,
and suddenly opened his eyes.  "What are you shaking me for, Sam?" he
demanded.

"You've got a nightmare, Tom, and you were shouting to beat the band!"

"Was I?  Say, I--I thought I was in Alaska, right in that field of snow
and ice.  And I was lost!  Gosh! what a scare I had!"  And poor Tom
fairly trembled.

"Well, go to sleep and try to forget it," said Sam, and Tom laid down
again, and soon dropped off.  Sam also retired once more, but he was
much troubled.

"I guess it didn't do Tom any good to go to that show," he reasoned.




CHAPTER X

IN WHICH TOM DISAPPEARS

Sam was the first one up in the morning.  He found Tom thrashing around
in his bed.  He had an uncertain look in his eyes and was feverish.

"How do you feel, Tom?" he asked, sitting down and taking his brother's
hand.

"Not as good as usual," was the reply.  Tom put his hand to his head,
as of old.  "I've got a fierce pain here," he added.

"Shall I send for a doctor?"

"No, I'll keep quiet and maybe it will go over, Sam."

"All right, I'll have you excused from lessons."

Sam dressed and went below, and after breakfast came up again.  He
found Tom sound asleep.

"I guess sleep will do him as much good as anything," he told himself,
and went out again, closing the door softly.

Sam had two classes to attend before dinner, so it was not until
quarter to twelve that he had a chance to run up to the room again.  To
his surprise Tom was gone.

"Songbird, did you see Tom?" he called to his chum, who was in the next
room.

"No."

"He's gone, and I left him sound asleep when I went to lessons."

"Oh, he must be somewhere around," suggested the would-be poet of the
college.  "Maybe he's taking a bath."

"I'll find out," said Sam.

On the way to the bathroom he met Spud and asked about Tom.

"Why, I saw Tom about eleven o'clock," said Spud.  "He told me he was
going to town to see a doctor."

"Doctor Havens?"

"Yes."

"Oh, all right," and Sam felt much relieved.  He went to dinner with
the others and then waited for Tom's return.  A full hour went by and
still Tom did not show himself, and then Sam sought out Spud once more.

"How did Tom act when he went away, Spud?"

"Act?  What do you mean?"

"Was he all right?"

"Well, to tell the truth, Sam, I think he looked a bit strange in his
eyes.  But I guess he was all right.  I'd not worry too much if I was
you.  He'll be back before long.  Maybe Doctor Havens was out and he
had to wait."

"That's so."

Presently Sam had a lecture to attend and went off to it.  At half-past
three he was free once more and hurried again to his room.  Tom was
still absent, and nobody seemed to know anything about him.

"I guess I had better go to town and see where he is," thought Sam, and
he asked Songbird if he wanted to go along.

"Yes, I'll go, Sam.  But don't worry so much--I'm certain Tom is O.K."

"Maybe, Songbird.  But you know how queer he acted.  He didn't seem to
be able to get over that crack in his head."

"Well, it was an awful blow, Sam.  It would have killed some people."

Before long the pair were on their way to Ashton.  About half way to
the town they met two students who had been away from Brill for several
days.

"Did you come from Ashton, Cabot?" asked Sam, of one of the boys.

"We did."

"See anything of my brother Tom?"

"No."

"I think I saw him," said the other student, a fellow named Lambert.

"Where?"

"Down at the depot.  I was looking for my baggage.  I think I saw him
near the freight house."

"Was he alone?"

"Yes, so far as I know.  Why, what's wrong, Rover?"

"Oh, nothing, only I want to find him," said Sam, and to avoid further
questioning, he hurried on, pulling Songbird with him.

"If Tom was at the freight house he must have been taking a walk,"
suggested Songbird.

"Perhaps; but I am awfully worried about this."

It did not take the two students long to reach Ashton, and Sam went
directly to the home of Doctor Havens, located in a grove of trees on a
side street.  A man was washing down the front piazza with a pail of
water.

"Is the doctor in?" asked Sam.

"No, sir, he won't he in until about six o'clock," said the man.

"How long has he been gone, may I ask?"

"He went to the city directly after breakfast this morning, for a
consultation with some other doctors."

"He hasn't any assistant?"

"No, sir, but he said if anybody needed a doctor in a hurry to call old
Doctor Slate."

"Where does he live?"

"In the big white house on the hill, opposite the depot."

"I know the place," put in Songbird.

"We'll go there," said Sam.  "Much obliged," he added, to the man.

"Maybe Tom went there and that is how Lambert came to see him near the
freight house," suggested Songbird.

"We'll soon know," returned the youngest Rover.

It did not take the students long to cross the railroad tracks and
reach Doctor Slate's residence.  They found the old doctor out in his
garden, tying up some bushes.  He was a white-haired gentleman and had
given up his regular practice some years before.

"No, there has been no young man to see me," he said, in answer to
Sam's question.  "Old Mrs. Powers was in, and Pop Slocum, the negro,
and that's all."

"In that case, Tom must be hanging around town, waiting for Doctor
Havens to return," said Songbird.

"It's a puzzle to me," said Sam, with a deep sigh, and he and his chum
walked slowly away.

"I wouldn't worry so much, Sam," said Songbird, sympathetically.  "I am
sure it will be all right."

"It would be if Tom was all right in his head, Songbird.  But you know
how he acted that day Stanley and Spud went into the old well hole,
and----"

"Well, what could happen to him in Ashton, such a sleepy country town
as this is?  Oh, he's around somewhere and will soon turn up, take my
word for it."

They found the depot deserted, for it was a time of day when there were
no trains.  Then they walked up the main street, past the stores and
the Eclipse photo playhouse.  The afternoon performance was just over
at the show place and a crowd of about a hundred, mostly women and
children, was pouring forth.  In the crowd were a burly, jolly looking
farmer and a pretty girl, his daughter.

"Why, Mr. Sanderson!" cried Songbird, his face lighting up.  "And you,
Minnie!  This is a surprise!" and he shook hands.

"Oh!" cried the girl, and smiled sweetly.  "I didn't expect to see you
here."

"We were doing some tradin' in town and thought we'd run in and see the
movin' picters," said Mr. Sanderson, who knew the boys well.  "They
sure are great."

"We came in to find Tom," said Sam, as he, too, shook hands.  He and
his brothers had once done Minnie Sanderson a great service, the
particulars of which I have related in "The Rover Boys at College."
Since that time Songbird had frequently visited the Sanderson
homestead, to call on Minnie, whom he regarded as the nicest young lady
of his acquaintance.

"To find Tom?" repeated Minnie.

"Yes.  Have you seen him?"

"I saw him about noon time," said Mr. Sanderson.

"Where?"

"Why, he was walking along the road to Hope Seminary."

"The road to Hope?" cried Sam.  "Are you sure?"

"Tolerably sure, Sam.  I was drivin' rather fast an' didn't take much
of a look.  But I reckon it was Tom."

"Maybe he went there to call on Nellie," suggested Songbird.

"This mixes me up," murmured Sam.  "I don't know what to think."

"I trust there is nothing wrong, Sam," said Minnie, sweetly.  She
counted the Rovers among her warmest friends.

"I--I hope not, and yet I am very much worried.  You see, Tom hasn't
been just himself ever since he got that blow on the head.  He came to
Ashton to see a doctor, but the doctor was away on business.  Now I
can't find him anywhere."

"If you want to go to Hope I'll drive you there," said Mr. Sanderson.
"I've got to go there anyway--to see about some potatoes they wanted.
Minnie said she would stay in town and do some more shopping, until I
got back.  But I've only got a buggy big enough for two," added the
farmer.

"I could stay in town with Minnie until you got back," said Songbird,
eagerly, to Sam.  "I could keep my eyes open for Tom."

"We could both look for him," added the girl.  It pleased her to think
she might have the would-be poet's company.

The matter was talked over for several minutes and then it was agreed
that Sam should ride over to the seminary with the farmer.

"You won't have to hurry back," said Songbird, on parting.  "If it gets
too late Minnie and I can go over to the hotel for supper," and he
smiled at the girl, who blushed and smiled in return.

Mr. Sanderson had always owned some excellent horses and the mare
attached to his buggy was a swift animal.  He and Sam got into the
turnout, and away they went with a whirl, soon leaving Ashton behind.

"This year the seminary is going to buy all its potatoes from me,"
explained the farmer.  "And they get their cabbages, and carrots and
turnips from me, too, and a good many of their eggs and chickens.  They
are quite a customer, and I want to do my best to please 'em."

"It's a fine place," returned Sam.  "Just as good as Brill."

"So it is, Sam.  By the way, how is Dick makin' out?  I understand he
was lookin' after your father's business."

"He is, and he is getting along very well.  Of course, our lawyer is
helping him, for some matters are in an awful tangle."

"That feller who hit Tom over the head ought to have been put in jail."

"Well, he is going to lose most of his property--or at least, he had to
give up what belonged to Dad.  The lawyer thinks that will be
punishment enough.  We thought of prosecuting the bunch, but Dad is in
such bad health he didn't want to bother.  Besides, one of the crowd,
Josiah Crabtree, broke his leg in two places and he will be a cripple
for life."

"Serves the rascal right!  He had no business to interfere with you,
and with that Mrs. Stanhope an' her daughter.  I ain't got no sympathy
to waste on sech cattle," snorted the straight-minded farmer.

Presently they came in sight of Hope Seminary and Mr. Sanderson drove
around to a side door, to interview the housekeeper.  Sam walked around
to the front, and rang the doorbell, and a maid answered his summons.

"I would like to see Miss Grace Laning," he said.  "Or, if she isn't
in, her sister, Miss Nellie."

"Yes, sir," and the girl ushered the young collegian into the reception
room.

A few minutes later Grace appeared.  She looked at Sam in surprise.

"Why, I thought you wrote you'd come next Tuesday," she cried.

"So I did, Grace.  But this time I've come about Tom.  Have you seen
him?"

"Tom?  No.  Did he come here?"

"I thought he might have come.  Mr. Sanderson saw him on the road,
headed in this direction."

"Oh, Sam, you look so--so alarmed!  What is it?  What do you think has
happened?"

"I don't know what has happened, Grace.  But something is wrong, I feel
sure of it," answered Sam, with conviction.  "Tom is missing, and I
can't imagine what has become of him."




CHAPTER XI

WHAT THE GIRLS KNEW

After that, Sam related the particulars of what had occurred, to which
Grace listened closely.  As she did this, tears streamed down the
cheeks of the girl.

"This will break Nellie's heart--if it isn't broken already," she
faltered.  "You know I wrote that I had something to tell you, Sam.  It
was about Nellie.  But I can't tell you here--let us take a walk."

"All right.  But I can't stay long--I must go back with Mr. Sanderson
and continue this hunt for Tom."

"To be sure--I won't keep you but a few minutes."  Grace led the way
outside and down one of the campus walks.  "You remember that time we
came back from the auto ride?" she said.

"Of course."

"Well, when Nellie and I got to our room she threw herself on the bed
and cried as if her heart was breaking.  I couldn't do anything with
her.  I wanted to find out what it was all about, but at first she
wouldn't tell me a word.  Then she said it was Tom--that he had acted
so queerly when they took a walk in the park he had scared her."

"What did he do?"

"Oh, he talked so queer!  He told Nellie tie wished he had the
_Dartaway_ back, so that they could go on a honeymoon trip to the moon.
And then he laughed and asked her if she would go on a camelback ride
with him through the Sahara desert.  And then he said he didn't want to
get married until he could lay a big nugget of gold at her feet--and a
lot of nonsense like that.  She was awfully scared at first, but after
a while he got more rational and then she felt a little better.  But
she couldn't get it off her mind, and it made her feel dreadful!  And
then, the other day, Tom sent her the queerest letter, full of all
sorts of the wildest kind of nonsense--about going to the North Pole
and bringing the pole back with him, and about sending her a pair of
slippers, to wear in place of gloves, and asking her to send him a red
and blue handkerchief, to keep his head from aching.  And he wrote that
he didn't think he was cut out for college, that he would rather shovel
nuggets in a gold mine--that is just what he wrote--'shovel nuggets in
a gold mine!'  Oh, such a mixed-up letter you never read!  And it made
Nellie cry again.  Oh, Sam, what does it mean?"

He shook his head and gave a deep sigh.

"I don't know, Grace.  It scares me almost as much as it has Nellie.
Maybe Tom ought to be put in a sanitarium."

"Oh, do you think he is really out of his mind?"

"It almost looks that way.  Poor Tom! and he was always so bright and
full of fun!"

"But what can--Oh, Sam, here is Nellie now!" cried Grace, as her sister
appeared and ran towards them.

"Oh, Sam, I just met Mr. Sanderson and he said you were looking for
Tom!" cried Nellie, as she came closer.

"That's true, Nellie."

"He hasn't been here--at least I haven't seen him."

"So Grace just told me," Sam tried to look at the girl in front of him,
but had to turn his gaze away.  He knew only too well how much Nellie
thought of his brother.

"Did he--he run away?" burst out Nellie.

"I don't know about that, Nellie," said Sam, and told his story over
again, just as he had related it to her sister.

Nellie burst into tears, and Sam and Grace did their best to comfort
her.  Grace's own eyes were moist, and Sam had all he could do to keep
from breaking down likewise.

"Oh, he is gone, I am sure of it!" cried Nellie.  "He is not himself at
all!  For all we know he may have thrown himself into the river!  Oh,
what shall we do?  What can we do?" and she wrung her hands.

"Don't take it so hard, Nellie, it may not be so bad after all," said
her sister, soothingly.  "Tom may be back to Brill by this time."

For several minutes the matter was talked over.  Then Mr. Sanderson
appeared, ready to return to Ashton for his daughter.

"I'll help you hunt for Tom," said the bluff farmer.  "I know he must
be somewhere around.  Don't you worry so," for he could see that Nellie
had been crying.

"Send word at once, when you do find him," begged Nellie, as the buggy
drove away, and Sam promised.

On the way back to town but little was said.  Near Brill they met quite
a few students and the youngest Rover asked them if they had seen his
brother.  All replied in the negative.

When Ashton was reached it was dark, and they drove around to the
hotel.  Songbird and Minnie had been dining, and the student asked Mr.
Sanderson and Sam to have something.

"No, I don't care to eat just now," said Sam.  "I'll take another look
around," and he left the Sandersons and Songbird together.

But Sam's walk around the town was productive of no results.  He called
again on the two doctors, only to be told that Tom had not shown
himself at either place.  At the depot nobody seemed to remember seeing
him.  The youth visited several stores where Tom was known, but none of
the clerks had seen the missing one.

"I suppose all I can do is to return to Brill and wait," said Sam, on
rejoining those at the hotel.  "I might send out a general alarm, but
I'd hate to do that and then have Tom walk in as if nothing unusual had
happened."

"And it would be just like him to do it," returned Songbird.

It was nearly ten o'clock when Sam and his chum returned to the
college.  Tom had not yet shown himself, nor had he sent in any word.
His books and his clothing were exactly as he had left them.

"Well, he didn't take anything with him," was Sam's comment, as several
of his chums came in to sympathize with him.  "That looks as if he
hadn't meant to go far."

"Oh, he'll be back, don't worry," said Spud, optimistically.

All did their best to cheer poor Sam up, but this did little good.  Sam
was much worried and his face showed it.

"I don't know what to do," he said.  "I certainly don't feel like going
to bed."

One of the proctors had heard that Tom was missing and came to the room
to see about it.  Sam told him all he knew and the proctor said he
would immediately report the case to Doctor Wallington.

"You know he can't stay out as late as this without permission,"
observed the proctor.

"Permission or no permission I wish he was here," answered Sam.  "He is
sick and I am very much worried about him."  And then the proctor left.

An hour dragged by and the other students went to bed.  Sam sat up in
an easy chair, trying to doze, but starting up at every sound.  He
tried to figure out what would be best for him to do, but could reach
no satisfactory conclusion.  He looked out of the window.  The moon was
setting and soon all became dark.  A wagon rattled by on the roadway
beyond the campus, and the clock in the college tower tolled out the
hour of midnight.

"This is simply awful!" murmured Sam, as he walked back to the easy
chair and dropped down.  "I wonder if I hadn't better send a message to
Dick?  But I can't do it until seven o'clock--the telegraph office is
closed."

At last Sam became so worn out that he could keep his eyes open no
longer.  He flung himself on his bed, dressed as he was, and fell into
a fitful doze.  And thus the hours went by until the sun shone over the
hills in the East.

"Did he come in?"  It was a question put by Songbird, as he came to the
door.

"No."

"Say, Sam, this is strange.  What are you going to do?"

"I don't know--telegraph to Dick and send out a general alarm, I guess."

"You don't think he simply ran away, do you?"

"What, without telling me?  You know better than that, Songbird."

"Then he must have wandered off while he was out of his mind.  Maybe
he's somewhere in the woods around here."

"Maybe.  I only hope he isn't hurt."

"Well, if I can do anything, let me know," answered Songbird, and
stepped back into his room to dress.

As soon as possible Sam went to Doctor Wallington and talked the matter
over with the head of Brill.  The worthy doctor knew about the case
already and was all sympathy.

"We had better send out a general alarm," he said.  "And you can notify
your folks.  It was a mistake to let your brother come back here so
soon after being hurt.  You can take one of the carriages and drive
down to Ashton at once, if you wish, and also drive around to some of
the other places in this vicinity.  Somebody must have seen your
brother after he left here, or after Mr. Sanderson saw him."

"Would you mind if I take John Powell with me?" asked Sam.  "I may need
somebody to help me."

"Very well, Rover, he can go if he wishes."

"To be sure I'll go," said Songbird, when told of this.  "And we'll
find Tom, see if we don't," he added, by way of cheering Sam.

Sam waited until nine o'clock to see if Tom would show himself and then
he and Songbird drove over the Ashton.  A search lasting the best part
of an hour followed, but nothing new was learned.  Then, rather
reluctantly--for he knew that Dick was having trouble enough attending
to their father's affairs--he sent a telegram to his big brother,
telling of Tom's disappearance, and adding that he would telegraph
again, if anything new turned up.

In driving over to Hope Seminary Mr. Sanderson had pointed out to Sam
the spot where he had seen--or thought he had seen--Tom.  Sam now
determined to visit that spot and see if from that point he could not
get on the trail of his brother.

The place was near a turn of the road and just beyond was another road.
At the forks stood an old stone house, wherein lived an old basketmaker
named Rater.  The girls of Hope often bought baskets from the man just
to help him along.

Sam and Songbird found Rater sitting on a side porch of his home, with
his basket-making materials scattered around him.  He was a tall, thin
man, somewhat deaf, but with a pair of sharp eyes.

"Come to buy a basket?" he asked, briskly.

"No, I came for a little information, if you can give it, Mr. Rater,"
replied Sam.

"What do you want to know?"

"Were you here yesterday?"

"I sure was--all day long."

"Did you see anything of my brother?" went on Sam.  "He is a little
larger than I am, and here is his picture," and the youngest Rover
produced a photograph he had brought along.

The old basketmaker looked at the photograph carefully.

"Why, yes, I see that feller," he said slowly.  "He stopped at my gate
fer a minute or two.  He acted sort o' strange."

"In what way?"

"He didn't speak to me, he spoke to hisself.  Said something about a
basketful o' nuggets.  I asked him if he wanted to buy a basket, but he
only shook his head an' said somethin' about wantin' to git the nuggets
o' gold first.  Then, all of a sudden like, he ran away."

"And which way did he go?" asked Sam, with interest.

"Up the Hoopville road," and the old basketmaker pointed to the side
road which ran past his home.

"Did he have any baggage with him?" questioned Songbird.

"Nary a thing."

"Thank you for the information," said Sam, and passed over a quarter,
which Rater pocketed with a broad smile.  Ready money was scarce with
him.

"We'll drive to Hoopville," said Sam, a minute later, as he and
Songbird got in the buggy.  "And we'll ask about Tom on the way."

A quarter of a mile was passed and they came to a lonely spot on the
highway.  Here, the only building in sight was a half tumbled down
cottage belonging to a man named Hiram Duff.  Duff pretended to be
poor, but common report had it that he was a miser and fairly well to
do.

"Going to stop here?" questioned Songbird, as they drove near.

"We might as well," returned Sam.  "Old Duff is a tough customer, but
in this case----"

He did not finish for at that instant a muffled cry came from the old
cottage, startling both boys.




CHAPTER XII

AT HIRAM DUFF'S COTTAGE

"What can that be?"

"Must be somebody in trouble!"

"Maybe it is old Duff!"

"Let us go and see!"

With these hasty exclamations both boys leaped from the carriage they
occupied and ran towards the delapidated cottage.  The cries continued,
coming from somewhere in the interior.

"Wait--we'll look in the window first," suggested Sam.  "Maybe old Duff
is having a quarrel with one of his neighbors, and if so it might not
be wise to interfere."

There was a window with small panes of glass close at hand, and going
to this the two youths peered into the cottage.  To their surprise they
could see nobody.  Both lower rooms of the old building seemed to be
unoccupied.

"Let's go around to the rear.  Maybe the sounds come from there,"
suggested Songbird.

There was a path full of weeds leading to a rear porch that was almost
ready to fall down.  The back door stood partly open.  Nobody was in
sight.

"The call comes from somewhere inside," said Sam.  "Come on in.  But be
on your guard, Songbird.  We don't want to get into trouble."

Both lads crossed the rickety porch and entered what was the kitchen of
the cottage.  A musty odor pervaded the building, for old Duff usually
kept everything tightly closed.

The place was in disorder, a chair being overturned and several cooking
utensils littering the floor.  On the stove, which was cold, lay a big
carving knife.

"What do you want?  Where are you?" called out Sam.

"Oh, help me!  Get me out of here!" came the somewhat faint reply.  "I
am in the cellar!"

"In the cellar!" repeated Songbird.  "Are you Mr. Duff?"

"Yes.  Help me out, please."

Both boys looked around for a stairs, but there was none.  Then, to one
side of the kitchen floor, they saw a trap door.  It was shut down and
bolted by means of a plug stuck through two staples.

It was an easy matter to kick the plug away and raise the trap door.
The boys peered down into the opening below and saw Hiram Duff sitting
on the lower step of the stairs.  He looked hollow-eyed and almost
exhausted.

"What's the matter, Mr. Duff?  How did you get shut up this way?" asked
Sam, kindly.

"Oh, my!  Oh, my!" sighed the old miser.  "Ca--can't you help me up the
stairs?  I am so--so weak I can't hardly walk.  Where is the rascal who
shut me up this way?  I'll have the police on him!"

"Did somebody shut you up In this cellar?" asked Sam, as he and
Songbird crawled below to give the old man assistance.  They saw that
the cellar was merely a big hole in the ground and the stairs were very
steep and not particularly safe.

"Yes, somebody got me to come down here and then locked that trap door
on me," grumbled the miser.  He got up with difficulty and crawled
slowly to the kitchen, the boys coming after him to see that he did not
fall back.  "Oh, dear, what a time I have had of it!" he whined.

"When was this?" asked Songbird.

"I don't know--that is, I can't tell how long it was until I know what
time it is now."

"It is half-past ten," answered Sam, consulting his watch.

"What!  Do you mean half-past ten in the morning?" burst out Hiram
Duff.  "If that's true then I've been down cellar all night--ever since
yesterday afternoon!  No wonder I was hungry and thirsty.  I've got to
have something to eat and drink soon, or I'll starve to death!"  And he
walked to the kitchen cupboard and got out some bread and meat.  There
was water in a pail on the bench and he took a long drink of this.

"Who was it locked you in the cellar?" asked Sam.

"Who be you boys?" asked the miser in return.

"We belong to Brill College.  We were driving past and we heard you
yell," answered Songbird.

"Yes, I thought I heard a carriage on the road, so I called as loud as
I could.  I did that ever since that fellow went away, but I guess
nobody heard me--leastwise, they didn't pay no attention."

"Will you tell us how it all happened?" asked Sam, and then he added
aside to Songbird.  "Don't say anything about Tom."  And the would-be
poet of Brill nodded to show he understood.

"It was this way," answered Hiram Duff, dropping down on the chair Sam
fixed for him.  "I was sitting on the back porch mending my coat when
all of a sudden a fellow came around the corner of the house.  He was a
strange looking young fellow and he wore a funny looking cap pulled
away down over his eyes.  He asked me if I wasn't Hackler.  I said I
wasn't, that my name was Hiram Duff.  Then he says, 'I knew it, I knew
it!  At last!' and sits down on the porch.  I says, 'At last, what?'
and he says something about a nugget of gold.  He acted awful
mysterious like, and finally he asks me if I'd like to own half of a
big nugget of gold.  I told him I certainly would."

"And then?" asked Sam, as the old miser paused to take a bite of bread
and meat.

"Then he told a queer story about a nugget of gold brought down to this
place from Alaska.  He was very mysterious, and at last he said the
nugget was right down in my cellar, and if I'd dig it up fer him he'd
give me half.  At first I thought he was fooling, or wasn't just right
in his mind, but a nugget of gold--even a little one--isn't to be
sneezed at, and it wouldn't cost me nuthing to go down cellar and look.
So I starts to go down the stairs when he says to be careful, that he
would look around, to make sure nobuddy was a-spying on him.  He said
the nugget was in the northwest corner.  I went down and the next thing
I knew I heard a strange cry upstairs.  'You shan't rob me!  The nugget
is mine!' yells that fellow and bang! goes that trap door, and then he
up and bolts it fast, so I couldn't open it.  I calls to let me out,
and he calls back for me to keep quiet until he got some friends, so I
couldn't rob him of that nugget.  Then he slammed around upstairs here
something awful.  At last he went away; and that's the last I seen or
heard of him."

"What did you do?  Didn't you try to get out?" questioned Songbird.

"For a long time I waited, thinking he would come back.  And as he
seemed so sure about the nugget I took the lantern and looked for it.
But there wasn't no signs of any gold.  Then the lantern got dry and
went out, leaving me in the dark.  I didn't know what to make of it.  I
went up the stairs and tried to open the door, but I couldn't budge it.
Then I tried to dig my way out of the hole, but the old shovel I had
broke and there I was.  I'm an old man and pretty full of rheumatism,
and staying down cellar all night has most finished me," concluded
Hiram Duff, with a groan.

"Did the fellow say where he was going?" asked Sam, after a pause.

"Said he was going to get help, that's all, so I couldn't rob him of
that nugget.  I don't know what to make of it.  Might be he was a
lunatic, eh?" went on the old miser, suddenly.  "Maybe he run away from
some asylum."

"Possibly," answered Sam, shortly.  "Did he take anything, do you
suppose?" he went on.

"Take anything?  You mean steal anything?" cried Hiram Duff, and
started back.  The sandwich he had made for himself dropped from his
hand.  "I--I wonder if he did take anything," he muttered, and his eyes
roved towards the other room of the cottage.

"Better take a look around, if you had anything of value," said Sam,
and gave Songbird a meaning look.

With feeble steps the old miser walked out of the kitchen into what had
been the sitting room of the cottage.  As he was too feeble to sleep
upstairs, Hiram Duff now used the apartment for a bedroom as well.  He
closed the door between the two rooms and the boys heard him rummaging
around among his possessions.  Then came a wild cry.

"It's gone!  It's gone!  My tin box is gone!"

"Your tin box?" repeated Songbird, as the old man threw open the door.

"Yes! yes!  The fellow has robbed me!  Oh, this is dreadful!  What
shall I do?  I am a poor man!  Oh, I'll have to go to the poorhouse!"
And the miser commenced to wring his hands.

"What did you have in the box?" questioned Sam.

"I had--some--er--some money, and some--er--jewelry," faltered Hiram
Duff.  He was a very secretive man naturally and it galled him to make
the admission.

"How much money, Mr. Duff?"

"Oh, a--er--quite some.  Oh, this is too bad!  What shall I do?  This
will ruin me!  Oh, where is that rascal?  How can I catch him?" and the
old man ran around the kitchen, staring at one thing and another, and
at the boys.

"This must be Tom's work," whispered Sam to Songbird.  "I wonder what I
had best do about it?"

"Wait until you are sure it was Tom," advised the would-be poet.

Sam commenced to question the old miser regarding the looks of the
fellow who had visited him.  He soon became convinced that it must have
been Tom.  Clearly his brother must now be completely out of his mind.

"Poor, poor Tom," he sighed.  "If he is going to act this way, what
will he do next?  I wish I could find him, and that Dick was here to
help me to take care of him and clear up this mess."

"I don't know what I'm a-going to do," whined Hiram Duff.  "I gotter
find that box."

"How big a box was it?" questioned Sam.

"'Twasn't so very big--a fellow could put it in his pocket.  But it had
gold--I mean money--in it, and my dead wife's jewelry."

"How much money, Mr. Duff?"

"What business is that of yours?" demanded the miser, suspiciously.

"Why, I think--maybe I can help you get it back," stammered Sam.  He
grew red in the face.  "To tell the plain truth, I think I know who
that fellow was."

"Who?"

"Tell me what you lost first."

"Well, if you must know, that box had three hundred dollars in gold in
it, besides the jewelry.  That my wife got from her folks when they
died, and they said it was wuth over a hundred dollars."

"Is that all?"

"Ain't that enough?  Land sakes!  I ain't no millionaire!  That gold
was a-going to keep me from the poorhouse."  And Hiram Duff shook his
head dolefully.  He did not tell the young collegiates that he had an
even ten thousand dollars in the banks.  He had saved money all his
life, denying himself and his wife almost the necessities of life.

"Do you suppose anybody else could have come in and taken the box?"
said Songbird.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, did anybody come in after that fellow left?"

"How should I know?--I was down cellar."

"Did you hear anybody?"

"I heard something.  Maybe it was somebody, or maybe it was my sheep.
They come up to the house sometimes."

"I see."

"But what do you know about this?" demanded Hiram Duff, turning to Sam.
"You said you might help me to git the money back."

"I'll tell you," said Sam, and related how his brother had disappeared
and how the blow on the head seemed to have affected him.

"That's it!  That's him!  That's the man!" cried the old miser.  "He
did it!  You catch him and git my money back!" he went on, excitedly.

"I'll certainly do my best to find him, Mr. Duff," answered Sam.  "And
if he really took your box you shall have what you lost back."

"Is he crazy, do you think?"

"He wouldn't do such a thing if he was in his right mind."

"Tom Rover is as honest as the day is long," declared Songbird.  "If he
really took your box he didn't know what he was doing."

"Well, he certainly did act queer," agreed Hiram Duff.  "But that ain't
here nor there.  I want my box back, with all that's in it, and I'm
going to have it.  I guess I had better go to town and tell the police
about this."




CHAPTER XIII

THE WESTERN EXPRESS

The old miser was very much excited and began to pace the floor of his
cottage.

"Yes, I better tell the police, that's what I better do," he muttered.

"There won't be any necessity to tell the police--if it was really my
brother who did it," said Sam.

"Why not, I'd like to know?" challenged Hiram Duff.  "He ain't no
better'n other folks."

"If he took the box, I and my family will see to it that you are repaid
for your loss, Mr. Duff," answered the youngest Rover.

"Humph!  Do you guarantee that?" demanded the old miser, suspiciously.

"Yes."

"And you can take his word for it, sir," added Songbird.  "The Rovers
are well-known and wealthy, and they will do exactly as they promise.

"I've heard that name before.  Didn't you have some trouble with the
railroad company?" asked Hiram Duff.  "About a busted-up flying
machine?"

"Yes," replied Sam.

"And got the best of that skinflint lawyer, Belright Fogg?"

"We made Mr. Fogg pay for the biplane, yes."

"I know all about it," chuckled Hiram Duff.  "Served Fogg right.  And
he lost his job with the railroad company, too."  The old man pursed up
his lips.  "Well, if you'll give me your word that you will settle with
me I won't go to the police.  But I want every cent that is coming to
me, understand that."

"You'll get it--if my brother took the box," answered Sam.  "But listen
to me.  First of all I want to find my brother.  I think he ought to be
under a doctor's care."

"He ought to be in an asylum," responded Hiram Duff, bluntly.  "It's
dangerous to allow sech a feller at large."

"Maybe.  We are going on a hunt for him right now," answered Sam.
"I'll come back here, or you can come to see me at Brill.  And don't
worry, Mr. Duff,--you'll not lose a cent," added the youth, earnestly.

Luckily Hiram Duff had heard all about the trouble the Rovers had had
with the railroad lawyer, and had at the time also heard that Sam's
family were wealthy and of high standing.  This being so, he took
matters far more calmly than would otherwise have been the case.  But
he wanted something in writing and Sam quickly wrote out a statement
and signed it.

"Now we must get after my brother," said the youth.  "Although you say
you have no idea where he went?"

"No, I ain't got the least idee."

"Let us drive on towards Hoopville," suggested Songbird.  "We can make
inquiries along the way."

In a few minutes more the pair were on the way, Hiram Duff gazing after
them anxiously.

"Don't forget to let me hear from you!" he called out.

"Songbird, this is terrible!" murmured Sam, as they drove on.  "I wish
Dick was here to advise me."

"He'll come as quickly as he can, don't worry about that, Sam.  I only
hope we catch Tom before he gets too far away."

About a mile was covered along the road leading to Hoopville, a small
village, the single industry of which was the making of barrel hoops.
Then they came to another farmhouse, where they saw a boy of fifteen
sitting on a horse-block, whittling a stick.

"Hello, there!" called out Sam.  "Say, I'm looking for a young fellow
that passed here yesterday.  Did you see anything of him?  Here is his
picture."

"Sure I saw him," answered the boy, after a glance at the photograph.
"I drove him over to Morton's Junction."

"Drove him over to Morton's Junction?" repeated Sam.  "When?"

"Yesterday afternoon.  But we didn't git to the Junction till seven
o'clock."

"Where did you go to?"

"What do you want to know for?" asked the boy, curiously.

"He is my brother and I want to find him, just as quickly as I can."

"Oh!  Well, he wanted to catch a train.  He just got it, too."

"What train?"

"The Western Express.  He wouldn't have got it only it was about ten
minutes late.  He got aboard just as she started out from the depot."

Sam's heart sank at this news.  Tom on the Western Express!  For what
place had he been bound?

"Did he say where he was going?" put in Songbird.

"To Chicago, I think.  He talked to himself a good deal.  Said
something about Chicago and St. Paul and Seattle.  I asked him if he
was on business and he said he was going to pick up nuggets of gold.  I
guess he was poking fun at me," went on the boy, sheepishly.  "But he
paid me two dollars for driving him over," he added, with satisfaction.

"Did he have much money?" asked Sam.  "Tell me all you know.  I might
as well tell tell you, that was my brother, and he is sick in his head,
so that he doesn't know just what he is doing."

"Say, I thought he was queer--he had such a look out of his eyes, and
talked so much to himself.  He only had about ten dollars in bills.
But he said he had some gold in his pocket, in a box.  He didn't show
it, though.  He said he was on Bill Stiger's trail."

"Bill Stiger's trail," murmured Sam, and his mind went back to the
night Tom had gone to see the moving picture drama entitled "Lost in
the Ice Fields of Alaska."  Bill Stiger had been the name of the
villain in the play--the rascal who had robbed the hero of his golden
nuggets.

"He didn't have no ticket," went on the boy.  "So he could get off the
train anywhere."

"We must hurry to Morton's Junction and see if we can find out anything
more," said Sam to his college chum.  His face showed plainly how
greatly he was worried.

The boy told them how to go and they made the best time possible,
arriving at the Junction some time after noon.  They found the depot
master on the platform.

"I remember the fellow you mean," he said.  "He got on the last car.
Dunkirt, the conductor, helped him up.  But I don't know where he went
to.  Maybe Dunkirt could tell you, when he gets back here."

"When will he be back?"

"He's off to-day and he'll be here on the one-thirty train.  You can
talk to him when he comes in, if you want to."

"I'll do it," answered Sam.

He and Songbird had an even hour to wait, and the latter suggested that
they go to the Junction Hotel for dinner.

"Might as well eat, Sam," he said, kindly "It won't help matters any to
go hungry."

"I don't care much about eating, Songbird," was the answer.  "But I'll
go along and take a bite.  I wish I knew just where Tom had gone.  I
might telegraph ahead for him."

"Well, let us hope that conductor can tell you something."

With nothing to do but to wait, the boys took their time over the
midday meal, and while doing this they had the team fed.  Then they
sauntered down to the depot to await the arrival of the man they wanted
to interview.  Presently the train came in and the depot master pointed
out the conductor.

"Excuse me, but are you Mr. Dunkirt?" asked Sam.

"That's my handle," was the prompt reply.

"I am looking for the young man who jumped on your train just as it was
leaving here yesterday."

"Ha!  I thought somebody might be after that fellow!" exclaimed the
conductor, quickly.

In a few words Sam explained as much of the situation as seemed
necessary, the conductor listening with interest.  He nodded his head
several times.

"I thought he was a little bit off in his upper story," he said.  "He
talked rather wildly of going far away to get gold nuggets.  He paid
his fare to Chicago and that's as far as I carried him."

"What did he pay with?" asked Sam.

"He gave me a ten-dollar gold piece.  He had quite a lot of gold with
him."

"Did he say where he was going from Chicago?"

"Oh, yes, he had it all mapped out.  He was going to St. Paul first and
then straight west to Seattle.  From there he was going to Alaska."

"Alaska!" cried Sam and Songbird, in a breath.

"That is what he said."

"What part of Alaska?" asked Sam, faintly.

"He didn't tell me and I didn't ask him.  I rather thought he was
kidding me, he acted so queer-like when he talked."

After this the conductor told all he could remember about Tom.  He said
that the youth had left the train at Chicago in a large crowd and that
was the last he had seen of the youth.

"I'll send another telegram to Dick," said Sam to his chum.

"Why not telephone to Ashton first?" suggested the other.  "There may
be a telegram for you there."

"I'll do it," said Sam, and got the station master at Ashton on the
wire as soon as possible.

"Yes, a telegram came in for you an hour ago," was the answer, over the
telephone wire.  "I sent it up to Brill."

"Will you have the operator read it to me?" asked the youth.

"Sure.  Hold the wire a minute."

Another connection was apparently made and Sam heard a different voice.

"Is this Samuel Rover?"

"Yes."

"Want that message from Richard Rover?"

"If you please."

"He says he is coming up to Ashton on the train that gets here at
eleven-fifteen tonight."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Very well.  Thank you," and Sam hung up the receiver.

"What's the news, Sam?" questioned Songbird, and when told he looked
relieved.  "Dick will know what to do."

"I know what I am going to do, Songbird.  I am going right back to
Brill and get ready to follow Tom."

"I supposed you'd do that.  I'd like to go with you."

"I know it.  But that won't be necessary--if Dick goes with me."  Sam
drew a deep breath.  "I--I guess I'd better stop at Hope on the way
back and let the girls know how matters stand," he added, soberly.

"I can go up to-morrow and tell them, Sam."

"No.  I'd rather tell them myself," answered the youngest Rover.  He
knew exactly how Nellie and Grace would feel when he broke the news to
them.

It was a very sober and thoughtful pair of boys that got in the
carriage and started back to Brill by the way of Hope Seminary.  Sam
was laying his plans how to follow Tom in his wild trip West and
Songbird was wondering how he could be of assistance to the Rovers.
Several times the would-be poet started to quote some original verse,
but each time cut himself short.

Presently they came in sight of Hope, just as the girls were coming
from their afternoon classes.  They espied Nellie and Grace, and
beckoned to them.  Both came forward on a run.

"What is the news, Sam?" asked Nellie, quickly.

"It's not very good, Nellie," he said, kindly.  "Tom has run away."

"Run away!" gasped the girl, and turned pale.  "Oh, you don't mean it!"

"Where did he go to?" questioned Grace.

"To Chicago."

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

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




CHAPTER XIV

DICK AND SAM IN CHICAGO

"Get some water, Songbird, quick!"

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

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

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

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

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

"I--I'm all right now," she faltered.  "It--it was such a--a shock.
Oh, Sam, do you really think Tom is bound for Alaska?"

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

"It's awful, terrible!" murmured Grace.  "Poor Tom, he must be clear
out of his mind!"

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

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

"We'll find him," answered Sam, sturdily.  "Why, we've got to do it!"

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

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

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

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