"Just what I say already," cried Max Spangler, a German-American
student. "You can buy a new flying machine, yes, but you can't buy a
new head or a body, not much!" And he shook his head earnestly.

Even while the lads were eating they had to give further details of
the disastrous flight. Doctor Wallington congratulated them on their
escape.

"You had better leave flying alone after this," he remarked.

"I think we shall-- for a while, at least," answered Tom, dryly.

As soon as it was possible to do so, the boys sent a message to the
girls and to their folks, telling about the accident and of their
escape.

"It's bound to get in the newspapers," said Dick. "And if we don't
send word the others will be scared to death."

The oldest Rover boy was right about the affair getting in the
newspapers. The local sheets gave the accident a column or more and
some city sheets took it up and made a "spread" of it, with pictures
that were truly thrilling even though they were inaccurate.

"Humph! look at this picture!" cried Sam, showing up the supplement to
a New York Sunday newspaper. "Looks as if we hit the smokestack of the
locomotive and sailed along on that for a mile or two! Phew! what an
imagination that artist must have!"

"And here is a picture showing the train climbing over the biplane!"
returned Tom. "Say, it's a wonder we didn't wreck the Express instead
of the Express wrecking us!"

On the day following the accident the boys were told, after class
hours, that some gentlemen wished to see them. They went to the
reception room, to find two men there-- a lawyer and a doctor.

"You are the-- er-- the young gentlemen who were in the-- er-- the
flying machine smash-up?" queried one of the visitors, sharply.

"Yes," answered Dick.

"Mr. Rover?"

"Yes, Richard Rover."

"Just so. Glad to know you. My name is Fogg-- Belright Fogg. This is
Doctor Slamper. We represent the railroad company, Mr. Rover. The
doctor came along to see if you had been hurt."

"I got this," answered Dick, with a quiet smile, and pointed to the
lump on his forehead.

"Ah, yes, I see," put in Doctor Slamper. "Not very serious, I take
it."

"Oh, it didn't kill me."

"Ha! ha! Good joke, Mr. Rover! Feel pretty good otherwise, eh?"

"Oh, I'm able to sit up."

"And these other young gentlemen are all right, of course," went on
the doctor, smoothly.

His manner was such that the boys were disgusted. Evidently he had
come to smooth matters over, so that they would not put in a claim for
personal injuries. And the lawyer had come to ward off a claim for the
loss of the Dartaway.

"No, I'm not all right, Doctor-- far from it," cried Tom, before the
others could say another word. And then the fun-loving Rover went on:
"My knee is sprained, and my back twisted, and I have a pain in one of
my right teeth, and my brothers both got their arms wrenched, and one
got his left big toe out of joint, and none of us can see extra good,
and I think my big brother's right ear is out of order, and my
digestion is not what it should be, and I fear----"

"Stop! stop!" interrupted the doctor, in amazement. "Do you mean to
say----"

"And the back of my neck feels out of kilter somehow," continued Tom,
"and Sam's left hip isn't just as straight as it should be, and when I
hit my elbow I have the funniest sensation crawl down my shoulder
blade ever was, and we all think we ought to go to a sanitarium for at
least six months or a year; don't you think so, too, Doctor?"

"Well, I never!" gasped Doctor Slamper, falling back against a center
table. "Why, my dear young men, I think----"

"And the Dartaway is gone-- our dear old flying machine!" groaned Tom.
"The machine we hoped to fly in to Washington, to the next
inauguration. Why, don't you know that the planes of that machine were
covered with the autographs of most of the big men of this country?
Whenever we sailed around to visit our friends or the big men we had
them write their autographs on the canvas wings of the machine. Those
autographs alone were worth about a million, more or less!"

"What's this?" put in Belright Fogg, quickly. "A flying machine
valuable because of the autographs on it? Preposterous! If you think
the railroad will stand to pay anything on such a thing as that, you
are mistaken."

"But how are we to get those autographs back?" whined Tom. "Some of
the men who gave them may be dead now!"

"See here, let us get down to business," cried Belright Fogg. "You
don't look to be knocked out-- at least, not a great deal anyway. Am I
right, Doctor?"

"I-- I think so. Of course they may be-- be shocked a little,"
returned the physician. "Probably they are-- from the way this young
man talks-- little nervous disorder." And he pointed at Tom, while
Dick and Sam had to turn away, to keep from bursting into laughter.

"Um! Nervous, eh? Well, a few days of quietness will remedy that,"
answered the lawyer. "Now, see here." He looked wisely at the three
Rovers. "Our railroad disclaims all responsibility for this accident.
But at the same time we-- er-- we want to do the right thing, you
know-- rather do that than have any unpleasant feelings, understand?
Now if you are willing to accept our offer, we'll fix this matter
right up and say no more about it."

"What is you offer?" questioned Dick.

"Three hundred dollars-- one hundred dollars each."

"You mean for our personal injuries?" questioned Sam.

"I mean for everything."

"Nothing doing," returned Dick, promptly, and with a bit of pardonable
slang.

"You will not accept?"

"We might accept three hundred dollars for the shaking up we got--
although we don't know if our nerves are all right or not. Sometimes
these things turn out worse than at first anticipated. But the
railroad has got to pay for the biplane it smashed."

"Never!"

"I think it will."

"You got in the way of the train-- it was your own fault."

"Your track isn't fenced in-- I have a right to cross it where I
please. If I had a wagon and it broke down, you would have no right to
run into it. The law might not hold you criminally liable, but it
would hold you liable for the worth of the wagon and contents.

"Say, are you a lawyer?" queried Belright Fogg, curiously.

"No, but I know my rights," returned Dick, promptly.

  CHAPTER VI

 THE MISSING BIPLANE

For a moment there was silence. The lawyer and the doctor who
represented the railroad company looked from one to another of the
Rover boys.

"Pretty shrewd, aren't you?" said the lawyer, finally.

"We have to be-- in dealing with a railroad company," answered Dick,
bluntly. "Now let us get to business-- if that is what you came for,"
he continued. "We might put in a big claim for damages, and I think a
jury would sustain our claim. But we want to do what is fair. The
question then is, Do you want to do what is fair?"

"Why, yes, of course," returned Belright Fogg, but he did not say it
very cordially.

"Very well then. That flying machine cost us twenty-eight hundred
dollars new and we have spent over two hundred dollars on
improvements, so when she was smashed she was worth at least three
thousand dollars."

"But you can save something, can't you?" gut in the lawyer.

"Perhaps we can save the engine, and a dealer in second-hand machinery
may give a hundred dollars for it. Now what I propose is this: You pay
for half the value of the biplane and we'll call it square."

"Preposterous!"

"Very well then, Mr. Fogg, we'll consider the interview closed."

"If you sue, you won't get a cent, Mr. Rover."

"That remains to be seen."

"I am willing to give you five hundred dollars in place of the three
hundred first offered."

"No, sir-- it is fifteen hundred or nothing, Mr. Fogg."

"But you have not been hurt."

"Yes, we have been hurt. I have been to our college doctor about this
lump on my head, and my brothers have been to him, too. We were badly
shaken up-- not as much as my brother made out, but enough. If we have
to sue we'll put in our claim for personal injuries as well-- and
maybe for time lost from our studies."

"But fifteen hundred dollars! I-- er-- I can't see it," and the lawyer
began to pace the floor.

"Maybe we had better sue," suggested Sam. "We might get the full
amount of our loss-- three thousand for the Dartaway and some for our
injuries."

This did not suit the lawyer at all, for he had been instructed to
settle if possible and thus avoid litigation, for the railroad
authorities had heard that the Rovers were rich and might make the
affair cost a good deal.

"I will-- er-- make my offer an even thousand dollars," he said, after
some more talk. "But that is my limit. If you won't take that, you'll
get nothing."

"All right-- we'll sue," said Dick, and he made a move as if to close
the interview.

"See here, are you of age-- have you authority to close this matter?"
demanded Belright Fogg, suddenly.

"I can close the matter, yes," answered Dick. "My father will be
perfectly satisfied with whatever I do. I transact much of his
business for him."

"Ah, well then, let us consider this thing a little more, Mr. Rover."
And thereupon the lawyer went all over the matter again. Presently he
offered twelve hundred dollars. But Dick was firm; and in the end the
lawyer said he would pay them fifteen hundred dollars the next day,
provided they would sign off all claims on the railroad.

"We'll do it as soon as we see the money," answered Dick.

"Can't you trust me, Mr. Rover?" demanded Belright Fogg.

"I like to do business in a business-like way," answered Dick, coolly.
"When you bring that check kindly have it certified," he added.

"Very well!" snapped the lawyer; and then he and the doctor got out,
Belright Fogg stating he would return the next morning.

"Dick, you ought to be a lawyer yourself!" cried Tom. "You managed
that in fine style."

"Tom helped," added Sam. "He nearly scared that doctor into a fit,
talking about our aches and pains!"

"Wait-- perhaps the lawyer won't come back with the money," said Dick.
"He may reconsider the offer."

"You didn't say anything about the wreckage," said Sam. "Who gets
that?"

"We do, Sam. They are to pay us for damages, don't you see? If they
pay only that, they can't claim the wreckage."

Promptly at the appointed time the next day Belright Fogg appeared. He
was a bit nervous, for the railroad officials had told him to settle
at once-- before the Rovers took it into their heads to bring suit.

"I have the check, certified," he said, producing the paper. "Here is
what you must sign, in the presence of witnesses," he added, and
brought out a legal-looking document.

"We'll call in two of the teachers," answered Dick.

The oldest Rover boy read the document over with care. It was all
right, excepting that in it the railroad claimed the wreckage of the
Dartaway absolutely.

"Here, this comes out," cried Dick. "The wreckage belongs to us."

At this there was another long discussion. But the Rovers remained
firm, and in the end the clause concerning the wreckage was altered to
show that the Dartaway must remain the boys' property. Then the three
brothers signed the paper and it was duly witnessed by two teachers,
and the certified check was handed to Dick.

"Very sharp young man, you are," was Belright Fogg's comment, as he
was about to leave. "You ought to be a lawyer."

"Perhaps I will be some day," was Dick's answer.

"Better get that check right in the bank!" cried Sam, when he and his
brothers were alone. "That fellow may stop payment on it."

"He can't stop a certified check, Sam. I'll put it in the school safe
for the present. What we want to do is to look after the Dartaway. She
may not be worth much, but what there is of her belongs to us."

"Right you are. Let us get permission to go after her right away. For
all we know, somebody may have carted her off already!"

The boys readily obtained permission to see to their property, and
walked down to the college stables to get a horse and carriage to take
them to the spot where the accident had occurred. Just then came a
toot of an automobile horn, and a fine five-passenger car rolled into
view, with Stanley Browne and a stranger on the front seats.

"Hello, you fellows!" cried Stanley, as the auto came to a stop. "Come
over here! I hoped I'd see you!"

The Rovers hurried across the campus and were introduced to Jack
Mason, Stanley's cousin, the driver of the car. He was passing through
Ashton on the way to join his folks in the White Mountains.

"Jack wants me to take a ride with him this afternoon," said Stanley.
"And I can invite three others to go along. Will you come with us?"

"That is kind," answered Dick. "But we have some business to attend
to," and he related what it was.

"Say, let's take a look at the wrecked biplane!" cried Jack Mason.
"I'd just as soon go there as anywhere."

"So would I," added Stanley.

"Very well-- that will suit us down to the ground!" cried Tom.

"We were going to drive over in a carriage," explained Dick. "We can
get there much quicker in the auto."

The boys piled into the tonneau of the car and they started off.

"Got to show me the roads," said Jack Mason. "All I know around here
is the regular auto road to the White Mountains,-- and I don't know
that any too well."

"You can't lose us on the roads!" cried Tom. "We'll keep you
straight."

Jack Mason loved to run fast and soon they were bowling along at a
forty-mile-an-hour rate. Stanley and Tom told the driver what turns to
make, and almost before they knew it they had passed the outskirts of
Ashton and were approaching the locality where the fast Express had
dashed into the crippled biplane.

"Here we are!" cried Tom, presently. "We can't go any further on the
road. We'll have to walk through the woods to the tracks."

"I see a wood road!" exclaimed Jack Mason. "If the ground isn't too
soft I'll try that."

He went on and passed in between the trees, and soon they were within
a hundred feet of the railroad tracks. As the car came to a stop the
Rover boys jumped to the ground and ran forward. Then, of a sudden,
all three set up a shout:

"The biplane is gone!"

"Gone?" queried Stanley, who was close behind them.

"Yes, gone," returned Tom.

"Are you sure this is the spot where it was struck?"

"Of course I am."

"There are the marks where we landed and where the locomotive hit the
Dartaway," said Sam. He looked around. "Wonder who took her, and to
where?"

"That's to be found out," answered Dick, seriously.

"I don't see any airship," said Jack Mason, as he came up, having shut
off the engine of the touring car.

"Somebody has hauled it away," answered Dick. He looked on both sides
of the track. "This is queer," he added, presently. "I can't see any
marks in the sand or mud or bushes. She'd make marks if anybody hauled
her."

"I've got it!" cried Tom. "They hoisted her on a flat car! The
railroad people have taken her!"

"But she is our biplane!" cried Sam, stubbornly.

"Maybe they took her to the freight house in Ashton," suggested
Stanley.

"We'll soon find out-- if you'll take us there in the auto."

"Sure!" answered Jack Mason, promptly.

The boys were about to leave the neighborhood when they heard the
strokes of an axe, ringing through the woods.

"There's a wood chopper!" cried Dick. "Maybe he knows something about
this. I guess I'll ask him."

They soon located the man-- an elderly individual who worked for the
farmer who owned the woods.

"Yes, I see 'em hoist the airship on the flat car," said he, in answer
to their questions. "Had quite a job o' it, too."

"Did they take it to Ashton?" queried Dick.

"No. They was goin' to fust, but then Jimmy Budley-- the section
boss-- said it would be better to take it up to the freight yards at
Rallston."

"And they took it there?"

"I 'spect they did. They went off that way, anyway," replied the old
wood chopper.

"To the Rallston freight yards!" cried Sam. "What a nerve!"

"I'll make 'em bring it back!" cried Dick, firmly.

"How far is it to Rallston?" asked Jack Mason.

"About nine miles."

"Pooh! that's nothing. Jump in and I'll take you there in no time-- if
the road's any good."

"The road is O. K.," answered Dick.

The automobile was backed out of the woods, and turned in the
direction of Rallston. Jack Mason was in his element, and in less than
twenty minutes they came in sight of the town and turned into a side
street leading to the freight yards.

"There she is!" cried Sam, a minute later.

He pointed to one of the tracks in the yards and there, on a flat car,
the boys beheld the wreck of the biplane. A small crowd of curious men
and boys surrounded the remains of the Dartaway.

"What yer going to do with her, Jimmy?" asked a man in the crowd, of a
burly individual on the flat car.

"I guess the railroad is going to sell her," replied the section boss.

  CHAPTER VII

 THE SALE OF THE BIPLANE

"Did you hear what that man said?" demanded Sam in a whisper, of his
brothers.

"I did," returned Dick. "But he isn't going to sell our property,"
added Tom, warmly.

"Hardly," responded Dick. He pushed his way through the crowd and
walked straight up to the flat car.

"Who is in charge here?" he demanded.

"What's that?" came in some surprise from the section boss.

"I asked who was in charge of this flat car with this flying machine?"

"What business is that of yours, young fellow?"

"This is our biplane-- it belongs to me and my brothers here," and
Dick waved his hand at Tom and Sam.

"Oh! Are you the Rover brothers?"

"Yes. And I want to know what business you had to bring that flying
machine here?" went on Dick sharply, for he saw the kind of a man with
whom he had to deal.

"Say, look here, if you've got any kick coming you go to the office
with it," cried Jimmy Budley.

"Very well, I will. But I want to know who ordered you to bring that
biplane here."

"Never mind; you go to the office and find out."

"You brought it here, didn't you?" asked Tom, who had now come up to
Dick's side, along with the others.

"I ain't answering questions when I don't have to," returned the
section boss, with a sneer.

"Sure he brought it here-- on this flat car!" cried a man in the
crowd. "Why don't you answer the young fellow straight, Jimmy?"

"This biplane belongs to my brothers and me," went on Dick, as sharply
as before. "You had absolutely no right to touch it. If I wished to do
so, I could have you arrested for this," he continued.

"Say, I don't allow nobody to talk to me like that!" growled the
section boss. "You git out of here and see the men at the office."

"We'll not get out!" put in Tom. "This flying machine is ours and we
want it."

"You'll take it right back to where you found it," added Sam. "And be
careful that you don't break it worse than it is, or you'll foot the
bill."

"I won't listen to you!" stormed the section boss, who was of an ugly
disposition naturally and not liked in the neighborhood.

"Very well then," answered Dick. He turned to Stanley. "Will you go
out and see if you can find a policeman?" he asked, loudly.

"Sure," returned the college youth, readily.

"Wow! he's goin' to have Budley locked up!" exclaimed a small boy.

"See here, don't you get fresh!" stormed the section boss, eying Dick
angrily.

"We'll have a policeman settle this," answered the oldest Rover boy.
"This is our property, and we can easily prove it. You had no right to
touch it."

"I had orders," said Jimmy Budley, doggedly.

"Why don't you telephone to the office, Jimmy?" suggested a friend.
"Maybe there was some mistake."

"Wasn't no mistake," growled the section boss; nevertheless he hopped
down from the flat car and hurried in the direction of a shanty
wherein was located a telephone. Dick followed him.

"You can tell them what I said," said the youth; "And they may find it
to their interest to call up Mr. Belright Fogg before they give you
orders."

"Have you seen Fogg?" demanded the section boss.

"Yes."

"Did he say you could take the machine?"

"He said nothing about our taking it. He settled for what damage the
railroad did to the biplane. We went to get our property and found it
gone. Nobody had a right to touch it, excepting to take it from the
tracks."

"Huh!" grumbled the section boss, and shot into the shanty, banging
the door behind him. Dick heard him shout something into the
telephone, and quite a lengthy conversation ensued.

In the meanwhile Stanley had gone off for a policeman and presently
came back with a bluecoat who did duty in the streets beyond the
railroad yards.

"Well, what have you got to say about it?" demanded Dick, when the
section bass came from the shanty and while Stanley and the policeman
were approaching. "Do we get our property or not?"

"It's yours," returned the railroad man, and his voice was much milder
than before. "They had no right to give me the orders they did."

"What about taking it back?" went on Dick.

"I've got orders to take it to any place where you want it," answered
the section boss, and he looked anything but happy as he made the
confession.

"Then you can run it down to Ashton," answered Dick. "Will you do it
right away?"

"I guess so-- I'll see," was the answer.

"What do you want me for?" asked the policeman, as he came up.

"I don't believe you'll be needed-- now," answered Dick.

"It's all right, Murphy," put in Jimmy Budley, quickly. "We had a
misunderstanding over orders, that's all."

"This young man told me a flying machine had been stolen," said
Murphy, and nodded towards Stanley.

"It was a misunderstanding. I wasn't to blame." The section boss
turned to Dick. "I'll get a freight engine to run the car with the
machine down to Ashton inside of an hour."

"Very well," answered Dick. "And be careful that the biplane isn't
damaged in unloading."

"She ain't much but kindlin' wood now," and the section boss smiled a
trifle.

"Well, the engine is all right-- and that's the valuable part of her,"
returned Dick. "I'll look for her at Ashton in an hour."

"Want to ride down on the flat car with her?"

"I'll see about that."

The matter was talked over, and in the end it was agreed that Dick and
Sam should ride on the flat car, while Tom went with Stanley and Jack
Mason in the automobile. Then the section boss went off to get the
freight engine to haul the flat car.

"Got out of that better than I expected," whispered Sam to his big
brother.

"It pays to put on a front, Sam," was the answer. "If I had been
weak-kneed about it that fellow wouldn't have done a thing."

"Oh, you've got a head for business, Dick-- I can see that," said the
youngest Rover, admiringly.

"I hope so, Sam-- for I think I'll need it soon."

"You mean for helping Dad?"

"Yes,"

"It's too bad he has these weak spells, isn't it?"

"Yes. What he needs, I think, is a good, long rest."

The others went off in the touring auto, and Dick and Sam made
themselves at home on the flat car. Soon a freight engine backed up,
the car was attached; and off they started, in company with the
section boss and two track laborers, in the direction of Ashton.

As the Rovers could readily see, the Dartaway was a complete wreck,
beyond the possibility of being repaired. But the motor looked to be
in good order, and the stays and turn-buckles would, of course, be
worth something.

When Ashton was reached Sam and Dick found that the automobile and its
party had gotten there ahead of them.

"I've found a place where we can store the biplane-- or what's left of
it," said Tom. "In that barn," and he pointed to a structure directly
beside the tracks.

"Good enough!" cried Dick. "That will save the trouble and expense of
hauling it any distance."

The flat car was stopped in front of the barn, and after some trouble
the remains of the biplane were transferred to the structure. Then the
section boss brought out a receipt which Dick signed.

"Next time I move a flying machine I'll make sure that orders are O.
K.," he remarked, grimly.

"It might save a lot of trouble," answered Tom, dryly.

"Tell me-- didn't you act on orders from that lawyer, Fogg?"
questioned Dick, curiously.

"I did-- if you want to know."

"I thought so. He's too sharp for his own good."

"You're right-- and maybe he'll catch it for this," answered Jimmy
Budley; and then he and his men rode away on the flat car, leaving our
friends to themselves.

"Well, now you've got the wreckage, what are you going to do with it?"
questioned Stanley.

"Offer it to the folks who build flying machines," answered Dick.
"I'll write the letters to-night."

With the biplane off their minds, the Rovers rejoined their friends in
the automobile, and took a run through the country for fifty miles or
more. They stopped at a country hotel, and there Dick treated to cake,
ice cream and other refreshments.

The letters to the flying machine manufacturers brought various
replies. Several did not care to buy the wreckage at all, while others
offered a ridiculously low price.

"This doesn't look encouraging," was Dick's comment. "Boys, I guess
we'll have to pocket our share of the loss."

The next day, however, came another letter, one from a young aviator
of Worcester. He wrote that he had heard that they had the wreckage
for sale and if it was still on the market he would come and look at
it.

"Maybe he'll give us a little more than those manufacturers offer,"
said Sam, hopefully.

The letter was answered, and the young aviator came on the next day,
going first to inspect the remains of the Dartaway and then coming up
to the college.

"Pretty well smashed," said he, to the Rover boys. "About all that is
good is the motor and fittings."

"But that engine is a dandy," said Tom.

"How much do you want for the outfit as it stands?"

"I don't know," answered Dick. "The biplane cost us about three
thousand dollars."

"Yes, but she's a complete wreck. All I can use is the engine-- and
maybe a few other things."

"Well, make an offer," put in Tom.

"I might pay three hundred dollars."

"Make it double that and the machine is yours," returned Dick.

No, it wouldn't be worth six hundred dollars to me," answered the
young aviator.

A discussion lasting the best part of half an hour ensued. The aviator
went up to four hundred dollars and then to four hundred and fifty.
Finally, Dick said he would accept five hundred dollars cash; and the
bargain was concluded at that figure. The money was paid over, and the
Rover boys gave the purchaser a bill of sale, and he departed without
delay, stating he wished to make arrangements for shipping the wrecked
biplane away.

"Not so bad, after all," declared Dick, when the brothers were alone.

"It's very good," put in Tom.

"That's the end of the Dartaway," came from Sam, mournfully. "Well, we
had some pretty good times in her while she lasted."

  CHAPTER VIII

 A BOX OF CANDY

"Say, I've got to have some fun or bust!"

It was Tom who uttered the words. For over a week everything had run
along smoothly at Brill College. The boys had settled down to their
studies. They had sent letters home, and to the girls, and had
received several communications in return. They had been congratulated
on their escape from the wrecking of the biplane, and Dora had written
to Dick urging him to give up flying.

"I'm going to give it up for a while, at least," Dick had answered.
During those days the search had been kept up for Josiah Crabtree, but
so far nothing had been heard of the fugitive from justice. That the
man had left the neighborhood was quite probable.

"What sort of fun do you want, Tom?" asked Sam, throwing down the book
he had been studying.

"Oh, anything," was the answer. "I feel as if I was getting musty and
rusty, and I've simply got to do something. Wish there was a hazing
on, or something like that," and the fun-loving Rover gazed moodily
out of the window.

"Now don't you get yourself into trouble, Tom," warned Dick. "Better
get at that theme you've got to write on 'Educational Institutions of
the Revolutionary Period'."

"Hang the themes, Dick! I've got to have some fun-- and I'm going out
for it!" answered Tom, and catching up his cap he passed out of the
dormitory.

"Guess I'll go, too," added Sam, and quickly followed. Soon Dick came
also, not wishing to be left behind if anything unusual was to take
place.

In the lower hallway the boys found several men at work, cleaning and
oiling the hardwood floor. They had a box of wax polish with them, and
this immediately gave Tom an idea.

"I'd like to buy a little of that," he said, to the head workman, and
a bargain was quickly struck, and the fun-loving Rover walked away
with half a box of the wax polish.

"What are you going to do with it?" asked Sam.

"Don't know yet-- but I'll do something," was the reply.

"Looks like maple sugar candy," said Dick, gazing at the wax.

"Wait! I've struck it!" cried Tom. "Just the thing! Hurray!" And his
face brightened.

"What is it, Tom?" asked both of his brothers.

"I'll make William Philander Tubbs a present of this," was the reply.
"Come on, and watch how I do it."

"William Philander has gone to see that new, girl of his," answered
Sam.

"Not just yet-- but he'll be on the way soon. I'll have to hurry, if I
want to do something."

Tom led the way up a back stairs and to the room occupied that term by
Tubbs and some other students. They met the dudish student, half
dressed, going to the lavatory to wash up.

"Quick!" cried Tom. "I hope I can find the box."

"What box?" asked Dick, as he and Sam followed Tom into Tubbs' room.

"The box of candy he bought for Miss Ruggles. It was a dandy-- but
maybe we can improve it just a little," and Tom grinned broadly.

All looked around and presently found the box of candy on a dresser.
It was tied up with a blue ribbon, but this Tom slipped off with ease.
Inside of the box were chocolates and bonbons and some candied fruit.

"Hold the box, Sam," said Tom, whipping out his knife. "We've got to
move mighty quick!"

On the instant he was at work with his pocket-knife, cutting the floor
wax into various shapes to resemble candy. He took out some of the
candied fruit and substituted the wax. Then he felt in his pocket.

"This will help," he said, bringing forth a soapstone slate pencil,
which he cracked into tiny lengths. "The candy that lasts!" he cried
softly, as he dropped the bits into the box.

"Rather rough on the girl," declared Dick.

"Not at all, Dick," said Sam. "I was introduced to her last week and
the very next day she passed me on the road with a stare as if she had
never seen me."

"And Stanley says she is stuck up to the last degree," added Tom.
"Maybe this will take her down a peg-- anyway I hope so."

Sam was searching his pockets. He brought out several dried beans and
a heavy rubber elastic.

"The remains of a slingshot and ammunition I confiscated from a Freshy
who was taking shots at me," he explained.

"Drop the beans in-- they'll look like jelly beans!" cried Tom. "And
cut up that rubber band into pieces for jujube-paste!"

Dick was at the door on guard, and presently he gave a low whistle, to
notify the others that Tubbs was coming back. Instantly Tom shut the
candy box, put back the paper covering and ribbon; and then he and Sam
slipped out of the dormitory by a side door, so that the dudish
student might not see them.

Such a joke as had been played Tom could not keep to himself, and when
the Rovers went downstairs he told Stanley, Songbird and Spud Jackson.

"Fine!" cried Stanley. "That Miss Ruggles deserves it, too. She
thinks, just because her father has rocks, that she is too good to
even recognize any of us. The only fellow she tolerates is Tubby-- I
guess because he's such a dude."

Tom wanted to follow William Philander Tubbs when he went to see the
young lady, who was stopping with an aunt who lived not far from
Brill. The others were willing, and all hung around the campus until
the stylish student made his appearance.

"She's crazy for candy-- Tubby told me so himself," said Spud. "Eats
about a barrelful a week, so I understand. That's why he got her the
box, I guess."

"If she eats that boxful she'll be a good one," was Tom's dry comment.

It was not long before Tubbs appeared. The stylish student was
faultlessly attired, in light trousers, dark Prince Albert coat, white
vest, spats, and a silk hat. In one hand he carried a cane and in the
other the box of candy.

"My, but we are some swell!" murmured Sam.

"He ought to pose for a fashion magazine," returned Tom. "Keep back,
fellows, or he'll spot us!" And he pulled those nearest to him behind
some shrubbery.

William Philander passed them and they followed at a safe distance in
the darkness. The dudish student headed directly for the house at
which Miss Clarabel Ruggles was stopping, and the others saw him
ascend the front piazza and ring the bell. A servant ushered him in,
and the boys saw the light turned up in a parlor.

"Come on and see the fun," said Tom, and led the way across a lawn.
The curtains to the parlor windows were half up, so they could look
into the room with ease. One window was partly open for ventilation.

They saw William Philander sitting in a chair, the box of candy on his
lap. Presently Clarabel Ruggles came in, attired in an elaborate
evening gown. Tubbs at once arose to his feet and, bowing very low,
accepted her hand, which was held on high. Then the dudish student
said something and offered the box of candy.

"Oh, is this really for me!" those outside heard the young lady cry,
the words coming through the partly open window.

"No, he bought it for the cat!" murmured Tom, and at this the others
had to snicker.

"A-- er-- a slight token of my regard, don't you know," said William
Philander, with a flourish.

"So kind of you, Mr. Tubbs!" The girl gazed hungrily at the box.
"Shall I open it now?"

"If you wish to," answered the dudish student, gallantly.

"I will-- and you shall have a share of the candy," said the young
lady, and quickly drew off the ribbon and paper. "Oh, my, how
perfectly delicious!" she murmured. "Oh, Mr. Tubbs, how could you
guess just the kind I like!"

"Help yourself, my dear Miss Ruggles," said Tubbs, as the box was held
out. "Ladies first, don't you know," and he smiled sweetly.

She took a candy and he did likewise, and as they ate they talked of
various things. Then the box was passed back and forth.

"Yes, I came to see if you would go to the-- er-- to the-- er----"
stammered William Philander, and then he came to a dead halt. "Oh, my
tooth!" he gasped, suddenly.

"What is it, Mr. Tubbs?"

"I-- er-- I really think I've broken one of my-- er-- teeth, don't you
know!" gasped the stylish student. "Oh, dear, that candy is awfully
hard!"

"I didn't find it so, Mr. Tubbs. Here, try another piece," answered
the young lady, and helped both him and herself. "As you were going to
say," she added, with a smile. "Was it that concert that----" She,
too, stopped short. "Oh, my!" she gasped.

"Wha-- what is it?" stammered William Philander.

"This piece of candy I have! It tastes awfully queer!"

"So does this piece I have!" groaned the dudish student.

"Oh, Mr. Tubbs, what kind of candy is it anyway? My teeth are-- are
stuck fast in it!"

At this moment the aunt of the young lady came in. She looked in
wonder at the others, for both were making wry faces.

"It's the candy, Aunt Mabel!" cried the young lady. "It-- it tastes so
queer!"

"Ha! Let me see that box?" exclaimed the aunt, who was a portly
person. "I read in the newspaper only yesterday of some folks being
poisoned by eating cheap candy." And she looked severely at poor
Tubbs.

"This is-- er-- not cheap candy, my dear Mrs. Garlett," spluttered
William Philander. "It is some of the best to be had in Ashton, I
assure you."

By this time the lady had taken something from the box and was
sampling it. As it chanced to be a piece of the rubber band she made
slow progress in chewing it.

"I never saw such candy!" she declared, with vigor. She took another
piece. "That was all right," she added, a moment later. "But this
piece! Why, I declare, it tastes like wax! And it is wax, too," she
continued, inspecting the lump more closely.

"Wax!" gasped poor William Philander, hollowly.

"Yes, wax, Mr. Tubbs."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, my dear Mrs. Garlett!"

"Humph! I think I know wax when I see it. And this is rubber-- nothing
but rubber!"

"Oh, Aunt Clarabel!" murmured the young lady.

"Let me look at that box!" cried the lady of the house. She commenced
to make an inspection, holding the box close to a lamp. "Humph! Rubber
bands, beans, slate pencils, and polishing wax!" she declared. "Mr.
Tubbs, do you call this a box of candy?"

"Upon my word, Mrs. Garlett, I----" gasped the dudish student. He did
not know how to finish.

"It's just some old horrid joke!" declared Miss Ruggles, haughtily.
"One of your college jokes, I presume!" And she gazed scornfully at
poor Tubbs.

"No, no, I-- er-- I didn't-- I really----" gasped William Philander.

"You can have your box of candy back, Mr. Tubbs," went on the girl,
sarcastically. "I do not wish it. And allow me to bid you good
evening!" And with a stately bow she passed out of the room.

"I'll keep this box of so-called candy and have it investigated," said
Mrs. Garlett. "I don't want to be poisoned. Good night, Mr. Tubbs."

"But, my dear Mrs. Garlett----"

"I said good night," interrupted the lady of the house. "Mary will
show you to the door," she added, and then, in complete bewilderment,
poor William Philander rushed out of the residence, and along the
garden walk in the direction of the road leading to Brill.

  CHAPTER IX

 A BREAKDOWN ON THE ROAD

"I rather think that was rough on William Philander," remarked Dick,
with a serious shake of his head.

"Oh, he has got to be taken down somehow," replied Tom, "That's
right," added Stanley. "Why, the way he acts towards some of the
fellows is outrageous. Just because they don't dress as well as he
does he thinks them beneath his notice."

"And I wouldn't waste any sympathy on that girl," put in Spud. "She is
as bad as Tubby, when it comes to cutting the fellows she doesn't care
to know."

"Well, I guess it will all pass over," remarked Sam. And it must have,
for a few days later William Philander and Clarabel Ruggles were seen
out driving together and apparently as friendly as over. The dudish
student had sent the young lady a letter stating he thought some of
his fellow collegians had doctored the box of candy, and this
explanation was accepted by the girl and her aunt. Then William
Philander sent the girl some candy he was sure was all right, and also
a big bouquet of roses; and that was the end of the unpleasantness.

It must not be thought that in those days the girls at Hope Seminary
were forgotten. Whenever the Rover boys got a chance they visited the
place, and many a nice time they and the girls had together. On those
occasions Dick and Dora would roam off together, the others making no
attempt to follow them, and the pair would plan the many things they
hoped to do in the future.

"You have not heard from Josiah Crabtree, have you?" questioned Dick,
on one of these visits.

"Not a word-- and I don't want to hear from him," replied Dora.

"He's in hiding, but he'll let us hear from him sooner or later-- mark
my words."

"Oh, I wish he hadn't escaped, Dick!" And Dora clung tightly to his
arm.

"Well, that can't be helped."

"Is there anything new about your father's business?"

"Nothing of any importance."

"How does he feel?"

"In his last letter he said he felt somewhat better and was going to
take a trip to New York. How is your mother?"

"Quite well. But the fact that old Crabtree is at large disturbs her
very much. As soon as she heard of it, she went over to the Lanings'
home to stay."

The boys had driven over to Hope in a carriage. When they started to
return to Brill it was quite dark.

"We've got to hurry up," remarked Tom, as they rode away, Sam driving
the team.

"Why so?" asked Dick. "We have no boning to do to-night."

"Have you forgotten the spread Bob Grimes is going to give? He said it
was to be the finest yet given at Brill, and I don't want to miss it."

"That's so!" cried Dick. "Sure, we want to be on hand, since we are
invited. Bob is a first-class fellow."

"Queer we forgot about that feast," murmured Sam. "But I suppose we
were thinking too much of the girls," and he grinned sheepishly.

"What time is the spread to come off, Tom?" asked his big brother.

"Ten o'clock sharp, so Bob said."

"In his room?"

"His room and the one next to it. They connect, you know."

"We'll get there in plenty of time-- unless we have a breakdown--
which I don't expect."

"Don't be too sure of that. This carriage is none too good. I said so
when Abner Filbury brought it around for me."

"The wheels do appear to be somewhat shaky," remarked Sam.

"We miss the biplane, for making quick trips," returned Tom, with a
sigh. "We ought to get a runabout-- an auto runabout, I mean."

"That's the talk!" cried his younger brother. "If we had one of those
we could run over to Hope whenever we pleased."

The main road was being repaired, so, at a certain place, the boys had
to turn off on a side road for a distance of nearly a mile. Here the
going was anything but good, and they went down in more than one rut
or hollow.

"Be careful, Sam!" warned Dick. "Don't drive so fast."

"Oh, go ahead," put in Tom, impatiently. "We are losing a lot of time
on this side road."

Just then came a narrow turn, with a down grade, very uneven and full
of rocks. Over the latter bumped the carriage. Then came a sudden
jounce, followed by a crash.

"Whoa!" yelled Sam to the team, and brought them to a standstill at
the foot of the hill.

"What broke?" asked Dick, anxiously.

"The back axle, I think," answered Tom, as he leaped to the ground.

The boys had a lantern with them and with this they looked for the
damage done. Tom's guess proved correct-- the back axle had given way
close to the left wheel.

"What's to be done now?" asked Sam, in some dismay. "Say, I don't
think that was my fault," he added, quickly.

"I told you to be careful," returned Dick. "Now we are in a pickle and
no mistake."

"If we had a wire we might bind up that axle," said Tom, looking at
the fracture, which was in the form of a long split.

"But we haven't any," said Dick. He looked into the carriage. "Nothing
here but the hitching strap and I don't think that will do."

"There is a farmhouse," said Sam, pointing to a light in a nearby
field. "Maybe I can get help there."

"We'll see," said Dick. "Just draw up alongside the fence-- so that
nobody will run into the carriage. Now that the main road is shut off,
everybody has to use this one."

Soon the carriage was safe by the roadside, and then the three Rovers
hurried to where the light gleamed from the kitchen windows of a small
farmhouse. Dick knocked on the door of the place.

There was a stir from within, and then the door was opened, revealing
an old man, who held a lighted lamp in his trembling hand.

"Who be yeou?" he drawled.

"We have had a breakdown on the road," answered Dick. "We thought we
might get some help here."

"A breakdown, eh? What sort?" And the old man gazed curiously at the
boys.

In a few brief words the Rovers explained matters.

"If you can let us have some wire, or straps, we'll pay you for them,"
went on Dick.

"I hain't got much," replied the old man. "I'm poor, I am-- with
havin' sech rheumatism I can't work the farm. But yeou kin look in the
barn an' see wot there is."

The boys waited to hear no more, but hurried to the structure
indicated-- a building all but ready to fall down. In a harness closet
they found a few old straps and a coil of fence wire.

"I guess these will answer," said Dick.

"Anyway, let us try them. Sam, you go back and pay the old man
whatever he wants, while Tom and I do the mending."

"All right," answered the youngest Rover, and hurried off in the
direction of the farm-house.

Sam found the old man sitting by a small table, eating a frugal meal
of beans and bread and coffee.

"We found three old straps and some fence wire," said the youth. "What
do you suppose they are worth?"

"Well, I'm a poor man, I be," whined the old man. "I don't think yeou
be goin' to rob a poor, old man."

"Not at all," answered Sam, kindly. "How much do you want?"

"Them tudder fellers wot had a breakdown give me a dollar fer wot they
got," said the old man, shrewdly.

"If I give you a dollar, will that be all right?"

"I guess so," answered the old man. He knew what three straps and what
wire were meant, and knew they were not worth half the amount offered.

"Who had the other breakdown?" asked Sam, as he handed over a dollar
bill.

"Some fellers in an autymobile-- a couple o' weeks ago, or so."

"Some men in an automobile!" cried Sam, with sudden interest. "Who
were they?"

"I dunno. They left the autymobile in the barn one night an' come fer
it the next day. They give me a dollar."

"How many men?"

"Two I think there was, although one on 'em kept putty well out o'
sight, as if he didn't want to be seen."

"How did the man look that you saw?"

"Oh, he was a tall feller, with a face that stuck out here," and the
old man pointed to his chin.

"And did he have real heavy eyebrows?"

"He sure did-- eyebrows 'most as heavy as a moustache."

"How did the other man look?"

"I dunno-- didn't git no good sight o' him. But, say, wot you askin'
about them fer? Do you know 'em?"

"I think I know one of the men, but I am not sure," returned Sam, and
went outside to join his brothers.

Dick and Tom were deeply interested in what the old farmer had told
their brother, and as soon as the strapping and wiring of the split
axle was completed all of the boys went into the house to ask the
farmer more about the two men and the automobile.

"I can't tell yeou nuthin' more," said the farmer. "They left the
autymobile in the barn all night an' paid me a dollar fer it. I don't
know who they was, or where they went."

"Can you remember the date this happened?" asked Dick.

"I certainly kin do that, fer it was on my birthday, the tenth."

"The day Crabtree escaped!" murmured Dick, and Sam and Tom nodded.

"Where did they go?" asked Tom.

"I dunno. They went off at night."

This was all the old farmer could tell, and a few minutes later the
boys left him. All were rather thoughtful as they got into the
carriage once more and drove off.

"Just to think of it!" cried Tom. "Crabtree was around here a night
and a day, and nobody knew it!"

"It's too bad we didn't get news of it before," returned Dick. "We
might have followed up that 'autymobile,' as the old man called it.
But it's too late now. They must be miles and miles away. Crabtree may
be in Canada, or on his way to Africa, or China."

"I don't believe he'd go to Africa or China," said Tom. "I think he'll
hang around, trying to do us or the Stanhopes or Lanings an injury."

"Just what I think," put in Sam. "I'd like to know who the fellow with
the pointed chin and heavy eyebrows is."

"He must be some old friend, or he wouldn't help Crabtree to get
away."

"Either an old friend, or else Crabtree paid him pretty well for his
services."

"Well, Crabtree is gone, and that is all there is to it."

All the way to Brill the boys discussed the situation. At first they
thought they would notify the authorities about what they had learned,
but finally concluded that this would do no good. Too much time had
elapsed since the automobile had stopped at the old farmhouse.

Arriving at the college, they turned the carriage over to Abner
Filbury, explaining about the axle and offering to pay for the damage
done. Then they hurried to their room, to get ready for the feast Bob
Grimes was to give.

As they entered the dormitory they saw a letter lying on the table. It
bore a special delivery stamp and was addressed to Dick.

"Hello, what's this?" cried the oldest Rover boy; "A letter from home,
and sent by special delivery. What can it mean?"

"No bad news, I hope," said Sam, his face sobering.

"Read it, Dick," put in Tom. "It must be something important."

  CHAPTER X

 STARTLING NEWS

Sam and Tom watched with interest while Dick tore open the envelope
and took out the letter it contained. The oldest Rover boy scanned the
communication hastily.

"What is it?" questioned both of his brothers, impatiently.

"It's from Uncle Randolph," replied Dick. "He says father went to New
York several days ago."

"Is that all?"

"No, he adds that he sent father a telegram and so far no answer has
come back," went on Dick, seriously. "He thinks something has happened
to dad."

"Oh, Dick" cried Sam. "What could happen to him?"

"A great many things, Sam-- in a big city like New York. He might get
run down by a street car, or an automobile, or be hurt in the subway,
or on the elevated railroad. He wasn't very well, remember."

"Yes, I know that. Is that all?"

"Uncle Randolph wants to know at once whether we have heard from dad
during the past three days."

"We haven't had a word," broke in Tom "I thought it kind of strange,
too."

The other boys read the letter, and then the three talked the matter
over. They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Stanley
appeared.

"Going to the spread, aren't you?" he questioned. "Hurry up-- it's
getting late."

"I don't think I can go," answered Dick. "I've got something I must
attend to-- this letter from my uncle," and he held the communication
up. "Sam and Tom can go."

"I don't feel much like it-- now," murmured Sam.

"Neither do I," added Tom.

"Oh, you might as well go," urged Dick. "I'll attend to the message to
Uncle Randolph. Everything may be all right-- and there is no use of
the three of us disappointing Bob. You go, and explain why I didn't
come."

"Maybe you can come later," suggested Stanley.

"I'll see. But I must get word to my uncle first," answered Dick.

While Sam and Tom got ready to attend the spread Bob Grimes was to
give, Dick hurried downstairs again. In the hallway he ran into Paul
Orben, one of the older students whom he knew real well.