"Why in such a hurry, Dick?" questioned Paul, good-naturedly grabbing
him by the shoulder.

"I want to get to town-- to send a telegram home," answered Dick.
Then, struck by a sudden idea, he added: "Paul, is your motorcycle
ready for use?"

"It is, and if you want to use it to run down to Ashton with, take
it," answered the other, readily. He had once been up in the Dartaway
and was glad of a chance to pay the debt he thought he owed the
Rovers.

"Thanks very much, I'll use it," returned Dick.

"Come on, then, and I'll make sure that it is all right."

The two young collegians hurried to a room attached to the gymnasium,
where bicycles, motorcycles, and other things were kept. Soon the
motorcycle was brought out and Paul gave it a brief inspection.

"All right," he announced. "I thought it would be."

"Then I'm off," answered Dick, and pushing the machine along the path
towards the road, he hopped into the seat and turned on the power.

Dick had never had much experience in running a motorcycle, but he had
tried one enough to know how it should be handled, and soon he was
well on his way and riding at a fair rate of speed. The road was good,
and he had a fine headlight, and almost before he knew it he had
reached Ashton and was approaching the depot.

He had been afraid the ticket and telegraph office would be closed,
but he found the man inside, making up a report.

"I want to rush a message home," he said. "And I want to arrange to
have it telephoned to our house. I will pay the bill, whatever it is."

"It will depend on whether we can get the operator at Oak Run," said
the man. "He may have locked up for the night."

The message was written out, and Dick waited in the depot for an
answer. Quarter of an hour passed slowly and then the telegraph
operator came to him.

"Sorry, Mr. Rover, but Oak Run doesn't answer. I guess the office is
closed for the night."

"Try for Spotstown," said Dick, naming another railroad station
several miles further from his home.

Again came a wait.

"Same story-- can't get Spotstown, either," said the operator.

"Well, I've got to get somebody, somehow," murmured the oldest Rover
boy. "I guess you can get New York City, can't you?" he asked, with a
faint smile.

"Of course."

"Then I'll write another message."

Dick knew that when his father was in the habit of going to the
metropolis he usually stopped at a large place on Broadway, which I
shall call the Outlook Hotel. He accordingly addressed a message to
the manager of that hotel, as follows:

"Is Anderson Rover at your hotel? If so, have him telegraph me;
otherwise send me word at once."

"Now I guess I'll hear something," thought Dick, as he turned in this
telegram and paid for having it transmitted. "Send it Rush, please,"
he told the operator.

Again there was a wait-- this time of nearly half an hour. At last the
instrument commenced to click in the telegraph office, and Dick waited
anxiously while the man took the message down.

"Is it for me?" he asked. And the man nodded, as he continued to
write.

When the sheet was passed over the operator looked curiously at Dick--
a look that made the youth's heart sink. With a hand that trembled in
spite of his efforts to steady it, the oldest Rover boy held up the
paper and read this:

  "Anderson Rover was at this hotel until yesterday morning. His
  baggage is here. Bill unpaid. Left no word.

                                                            Manager."

"Gone!" murmured Dick, brokenly. "'Left no word,' 'Bill unpaid!' What
can it mean?"

"Something unusual, eh?" said the operator, as he took the bankbill
the youth handed out to him for the message and gave back the change.

"Very unusual," was the reply. "I don't know what to make of this."
Dick thought for a moment. "I suppose I can't get a train home before
morning."

"No, the first train for you is the eight-forty-five to-morrow."

"Too bad! I wish there was a train right away."

There was no help for it, and a few minutes later the youth left the
depot, and jumping on the motorcycle, started back for Brill College.

As he rode along Dick's thoughts were busy. What had taken his parent
to New York and why had he disappeared so mysteriously?

"He certainly must have gone there on business-- the business that has
been bothering him so long," he mused. "But would that cause him to
disappear? Maybe he had an accident, or was waylaid for his money."

A thousand thoughts surged through poor Dick's brain, but he could
reach no definite conclusion regarding his father's disappearance. Yet
he was certain of one thing.

"He didn't leave the hotel that way of his own accord," he reasoned.
"He would pay his bill and look after his baggage. It's for some
outside reason that he didn't return to his hotel and answer Uncle
Randolph's telegram."

When Dick arrived at the college he put the motorcycle away and went
directly to his room. Sam and Tom were still away, but he heard them
returning just as he was on the point of going after them. As they
came in, he motioned for them to close and lock the door. Fortunately,
they had their rooms to themselves, Songbird, their only roommate,
having gone away for the night.

"What did you learn, Dick?" asked both brothers, quickly.

"Not much-- and still a great deal," he answered, and told them how he
had tried to send word home and had then called up the hotel in the
metropolis.

"What do you make of this?" asked Tom, after he and Sam had read the
brief message from the hotel manager.

"Do you think he met with an accident?" questioned Sam.

"I don't know what to think."

"It looks mighty suspicious to me-- the bill unpaid and baggage left
behind," murmured Tom. Then of a sudden he drew a sharp breath. "Oh,
Dick, do you think----" And then Tom stopped short.

"What, Tom?"

"I-- I hate to say it, but do you think it's possible that dad got--
got a little bit out of his head-- with that business worrying him?"

"It's possible, Tom. Men have been known to get that way from business
troubles, and dad was far from well, we all know that."

"He should have taken somebody to New York with him," put in Sam. "But
it's no use talking about that now. The question is, What are we going
to do? I can't stay here and study when he is missing."

"Not much-- I couldn't study a thing!" cried Tom.

"I know what I am going to do," replied Dick. "I am going to take that
early train home, and see Uncle Rudolph. I'll send another message to
that hotel manager, too, and then, unless we get word that everything
is O. K., I'm going to New York as fast as I can get there."

"And I'll go along!" cried each of the two brothers.

"Yes, that might be best-- for if he is still missing we may have a
great task to learn what became of him. We'll have to hunt the
hospitals, and the police headquarters, and the-- the----" Dick was
going to add "morgue," but he could not bring himself to utter the
word. It was too awful to think that their father might be dead.

"We'll have to explain to Doctor Wallington, or Professor Blackie,"
said Tom.

"And send word to the girls," added Sam.

"I don't want to worry anybody more than I have to," said Dick. "This
may turn out all right after all," he added. But he had his doubts.
That something unusual had happened to his father he was certain.

The boys spent some little time in packing their suitcases with such
things as they deemed necessary for the trip, and then turned out the
lights and went to bed. But none of them slept well. All tumbled and
tossed on their couches, trying in vain to solve the mystery that
surrounded the disappearance of their parent.

They were up an hour earlier than usual, and it was Dick who took the
liberty to knock on the door of the head of the institution.

"Who is it?" asked the worthy doctor, and the young collegian told
him. A moment later the head of the college appeared, wrapped in a
dressing gown.

"I am sorry to disturb you, sir," said Dick. "But something has
happened that has upset me and my brothers a great deal." And he
briefly related the condition of affairs, and asked leave of absence
for himself and Tom and Sam.

"This is certainly alarming," said Doctor Wallington, sympathetically.
"I trust your, father is speedily found and that nothing serious has
happened to him. Yes, you may go, and remain as long as is necessary.
When he is found, let me know."

"Thank you, sir," said Dick, and after a few words more he hurried
off. Then he and his brothers got an early breakfast, and had Abner
Filbury drive them to the Ashton depot. Only a handful of students saw
them depart.

"Wish you success, boys!" cried Stanley after them.

"Yes, indeed," added Spud. "Keep up a stout heart. Maybe it's all
right, after all. There may be some mistake somewhere."

  CHAPTER XI

 AT THE FARM

"Oak Run! All out for Oak Run!"

It was the familiar cry of the brakeman of the train, as the cars
rolled into the little station at which the Rover boys were to alight.
The ride from Ashton had been without incident. They had had to make
two changes, and had fretted not a little over a delay of half an hour
at one junction point.

"There's old Ricks!" cried Sam, motioning to the station master, who
was looking after some baggage. "Remember the fun we had with him on
our last trip here, Tom?"

"Indeed, yes," was the reply, and the fun-loving Rover grinned a
little.

"No time for fun now," put in Dick, quickly. "We want to get home just
as soon as possible."

From one of the telegraph offices along the line the boys had sent
word ahead, and at the station they found Jack Ness, the hired man,
who had brought the family touring car.

"Glad to see you back," said the hired man, touching his cap.

"Any news, Jack?" asked the three, in one voice.

"You mean from your father?"

"Yes."

"No," and Jack Ness shook his head slowly "Not a line for several
days. Your aunt an' uncle are worried 'most to death."

The boys leaped into the touring car, Dick taking the wheel and Sam
getting in beside him. Tom and the hired man occupied the tonneau,
with the baggage. Away they went, in a cloud of dust, over the frail
bridge that spanned the river and through the village of Dexter's
Corners. Then they struck the country road leading to Valley Brook
farm, their home. Dick increased the speed to thirty miles an hour--
all the car would stand on such a highway.

"Say, we'll have an accident!" cried Jack Ness, in alarm. "It ain't
safe to run so fast, nohow!"

"Sit still, Jack; Dick knows what he is doing," commanded Tom. "We
want to get home just as soon as we can."

"Well, I don't blame ye fer wantin' to git home,-- but I don't want to
git kilt!" murmured the man of all work.

Farm after farm was passed and also a patch of timber land. Then they
swept around a turn and came in sight of Valley Brook, with its broad
fields and its gurgling brook flowing down to Swift River.

"There's Aleck!" shouted Sam, pointing to a colored man who was
standing at the entrance to a lane. He waved his hand and Alexander
Pop, one of the servants, and a man who had made many trips with the
Rovers, took off his hat and waved in return.

As he swung up to the broad piazza of the house, Dick honked the
automobile horn. At once the door flew open and Mrs. Rover ran out,
followed by her husband.

"Oh, boys! I am so glad to see you!" cried Mrs. Rover.

"How are you, Aunt Martha!" returned Sam, leaping out and kissing her,
an example speedily followed by his brothers.

"Very glad you came," said Randolph Rover, a tall, thin, and
studious-looking man, wearing big spectacles. He shook hands all
around. "Come right into the house."

"You haven't any word from dad?" questioned Sam.

"Nothing, boys-- and I do not know what to make of it."

"It is a fearful state of affairs," burst out Mrs. Rover, and tears
stood in her motherly eyes. "We cannot imagine what has happened to
your father."

"I sent another telegram to that hotel," said Dick. "I asked the
manager to send his reply here."

It was a rather sad home-coming, and even Tom felt much depressed in
spirits. All filed into the house and to the sitting-room, leaving
Jack Ness and Aleck Pop to look after the automobile and the baggage.

"We ought to get a message from New York soon," remarked Dick, after
his uncle had related the little he had to tell about how Anderson
Rover had gone away on the trip to the metropolis. Evidently Randolph
Rover knew little about the business that had taken his brother to the
city. He was no business man himself-- being wrapped up in what he
called scientific farming-- and probably the boys' father had not
thought it worth while to take him into his confidence.

Dinner was on the table, and the boys went to the dining-room to eat.
But nobody had any appetite, and the fine repast prepared by the cook
under Mrs. Rover's directions, was much of a failure. Once the
telephone rang and the boys rushed to it. But the call was only a
local one, of little consequence.

"I think the best thing I can do will be to go over dad's private
papers," said Dick, presently. "They may give me a clew of where to
look for him in New York."

"That's the talk!" cried Tom. "Come on, let's get busy." He hated to
sit still at any time, and just at present inactivity was doubly
irksome.

During the past year a room had been added to the house and this was
used as a library and sort of office combined, being provided with a
substantial safe and two roller-top desks. One of the desks was used
exclusively by Anderson Rover for his private letters and papers. When
sick the man had given Dick the extra key to the desk, telling him to
keep it. The father trusted his three sons implicitly, only keeping to
himself such business affairs as he thought would not interest them.

The boys sat down and, led by Dick, began a careful inspection of the
many letters and documents which the roller-top desk contained. A
large number of the papers and letters they knew had no bearing on the
affair now in hand. But presently Dick took up some letters of recent
date and scanned them with interest.

"I guess this is what we are after!" he cried.

"I was afraid it might be that."

"What is it?" asked his brothers.

"That old irrigation scheme-- the one run by Pelter, Japson & Company,
of Wall Street, New York."

"Why, I thought dad had dropped that," said Sam, in surprise.

"He tried to. But they held him to some agreement-- I don't know
exactly what. They wanted to get more money out of him-- if they
could."

"And you think he went to New York on that account, Dick?" asked Tom.

"It looks so to me."

"But that doesn't account for his disappearance."

"Perhaps it does."

"What do you mean?"

"Those fellows may be holding him a prisoner, or they may even have
put him out of the way altogether-- although I doubt if they are as
bad as all that."

"Some men would do anything for money," grumbled Sam. "But what good
would it do to hold him a prisoner?"

"They may want to force him to sign some papers, or give up some
papers he is holding, Sam. One thing is certain, they were very
anxious to see him-- these letters show that."

"Hadn't we better telegraph to them and see what they have to say?"
suggested Tom.

"Perhaps, Tom-- but, somehow, I don't think that would be a wise move
to make. Father did not trust them. He said they were sharpers. If we
sent them any word it might put them more on guard than they would
otherwise be. I think the best thing to do is to go to New York and
interview them personally-- if we don't get word from dad before we
leave."

"I think----" commenced Tom, and just then the telephone bell rang and
all rushed to it. Dick took up the receiver.

"Is this the Rovers' house?" asked a voice over the wire.

"Yes."

"I have a telegraph message for Richard Rover."

"All right, Mr. Barnes," answered Dick. "What is it?" He had
recognized the voice of the telegraph operator at Oak Run.

"Oh, it's you, is it, Mr. Rover?" returned the operator. "This is from
New York City, and is signed, 'Thomas A. Garley.'"

"Yes, yes! Read the message!" cried Dick, and all three boys listened
closely while Dick held the receiver.

"He says: 'No news of Anderson Rover. Better come on and
investigate.'"

"Is that all?"

"Yes." And the operator repeated the message. "I'll mail the sheet to
you," he added.

"All right, much obliged." Dick turned to his brothers. "Shall I send
word back that we are coming?" he questioned.

"Yes."

"Take this message down, Mr. Barnes," went on Dick, and dictated what
he wished to say. "I'll settle next time I see you," he added, and
hung up the receiver.

The uncle and the aunt of the boys wished to know the news, if such it
can be called, and the lads told them. At once Mrs. Rover burst into
tears.

"I am sure something has befallen Anderson!" she sobbed. "Oh, what
shall we do, Randolph?"

"I-- I think I had better go to New York and-- er-- make some-- er--
inquiries," answered her husband, somewhat helplessly, for a visit to
the teeming metropolis always appalled him.

"No, you stay here, and wait for some word, Uncle Randolph," said
Dick. "Sam and Tom and I are going to New York."

"Oh, boys!" cried Mrs. Rover. "Going alone?"

"Why not, Aunt Martha?" asked Sam. "We are not afraid."

"I know that. But this is-- er-- no ordinary trip. You may get into
trouble, and----"

"If we do, we'll get out of it again," put in Tom, grimly.

"Oh, if only we knew what had become of your dear father!" and the
lady's eyes filled again with tears, while Uncle Randolph looked
deeply sympathetic.

"I think we had better start at once," went on Dick. "We can get the
five-thirty train down."

"What, to-night!" exclaimed the aunt. "Why, that will get you to New
York at midnight!"

"Just about," said Tom.

"You had better start in the morning. What will you do at midnight in
a big city like New York!"

"We'll go direct to the Outlook Hotel," answered Dick. "And then, if
we can't find out anything about father, we can go down to the offices
of Pelter, Japson & Company in the morning."

"And if you don't find out anything there?" asked Randolph Rover,
timidly.

"Then we'll go to the police, and maybe get a detective or two on the
case," returned Dick. "And we'll have to look up the hospitals-- in
case he met with an accident. But I don't think he has met with any
accident," he continued hastily, for he saw how alarmed his aunt was
becoming. "For if he had an accident, the authorities would find out,
from the things in his pockets, who he was, and notify us, or the
hotel."

Mrs. Rover heaved a deep sigh, and her husband shook his head slowly.
Dick closed the desk again and locked it, and then the three boys
hurried to their rooms, to prepare for the trip to the metropolis.

"Say, I dun heah dat you am gwine to New York," came a voice from the
entrance to Dick's bedroom, and looking up from the suitcase he was
packing, the oldest Rover boy saw Aleck Pop standing there, an anxious
look on his ebony face.

"Yes, Aleck, we are going to take the five-thirty train. You can tell
Jack to get the car ready."

"Want me to go along?" asked the colored man, wistfully.

"No, Aleck, not this trip. You stay here and do what you can for my
aunt and uncle."

"Yo' father am missing, ain't he?"

"Yes."

"It's too bad. Hope you find him, Dick, I do, indeed! I'll tell Jack
about dat auto." And Aleck Pop went off, shaking his head in sorrow.
He loved all of the Rovers, and their troubles were his own.

  CHAPTER XII

 OFF FOR NEW YORK

"Boys, you must take care and not get into trouble."

"And as soon as you have word of your father let us know."

Thus spoke Aunt Martha and Uncle Randolph, as the three Rover boys
stood ready to say good-bye. The automobile was already at the door
and their suitcases were in the tonneau.

"We'll take care of ourselves," said Dick. "And as soon as we get any
word we'll let you know. And remember, Uncle Randolph, if any word
comes to the farm you are to forward it at once to the Outlook Hotel."

"Yes, I'll remember that," answered the uncle.

The boys kissed their aunt, who shed silent tears at their departure.
To Aunt Martha the great metropolis was a wonderful as well as
dangerous place.

"Good-bye!" cried Tom, and was the first to climb into the automobile,
getting into the driver's seat. Jack Ness was to go with them as far
as Oak Run, to bring the touring car back.

The other lads climbed in, and all those left at the farm waved them
an adieu. Then Tom threw in the dutch, and off they sped, down the
lane to the main road. Soon a cloud of dust hid them from view.

"It's awful, Randolph!" murmured Mrs. Rover to her husband. "New York
is such a busy place-- and there are so many wicked people in it!"

"The boys know how to take care of themselves," answered Randolph
Rover. "Why, they even took care of themselves when they were cast
away on that island in the Pacific Ocean," he added, referring to
happenings which I have related in detail in the volume entitled "The
Rover Boys on Land and Sea."

"True-- but-- but I am nervous about this trip. And then, what can
have happened to Anderson?"

"That I don't know. Maybe a street car or an automobile ran over him.
They have such accidents in New York every day, so I've been told."

"I know it! Oh, it is terrible, this suspense!" And Mrs. Rover walked
away, the tears still coursing down her cheeks.

In the meanwhile the touring car was making good time along the road
to Oak Run. At Dexter's Corners they stopped at the post-office for
letters. There were three-- one for each boy, but not one was
postmarked New York. They were from the girls at Brill.

"Glad to hear from the girls," said Sam. "But, just the same, this
time I'd rather get word from New York."

"So would I," added Dick.

"Ditto here," echoed Tom, with a long-drawn sigh.

Without waiting to read the communications, the lads kept on to the
Oak Run depot. They could hear the train coming through the hills and
presently it glided into sight and up to the station.

"Good luck to ye!" shouted Jack Ness, as they boarded one of the cars.
And then he turned back towards the farm with the touring car.

The train was not more than half filled, so the three youths had but
little difficulty in getting seats. They turned one of the seats over,
so that they might face each other, and put their suitcases in the
racks overhead.

"Guess we might as well read our letters," said Dick, as soon as they
were settled. He was anxious to learn what Dora had written. He had
asked her to write to her mother concerning their proposed marriage.

"Just what I say," added Tom, and soon he and Sam had settled back,
following their big brother's example.

The communication from Dora was quite long and Dick enjoyed it so
thoroughly that he read it twice before stowing it away in his breast
pocket. The girl stated that her mother had left everything to her own
judgment and that she, in turn, was willing to leave everything to
Dick.

"Dear, dear Dora!" he mused. "The sweetest girl in all the world! I
only hope I prove worthy of her!" And then he sat back and pictured to
himself the happy home they would establish as soon as everything
could be arranged. Had it not been for the cloud concerning his
father, Dick would have been the happiest youth in the world.

"Well, they are not doing much at Hope," remarked Sam. "Society
meetings, fudge patties, and grinding away at themes."

"Just what Nellie writes," answered Tom. "Well, you can't expect much
fun when you are trying to get an education!" And he sighed, as he
thought of what was before him at Brill. In a way, he envied Dick his
opportunity to break away and get out into the business world.

It had been too early to get supper before leaving home-- although
their aunt had offered it-- so about seven o'clock the lads went into
the dining car attached to the train. They found a table for four
vacant and took possession, and presently ordered what they wanted.

"Hello! look there!" exclaimed Tom, in a low voice, after looking
around the dining car, and he pointed to a man at one of the tables
for two.

"It's that lawyer who settled for the smashed biplane," returned Sam.
"Must be going to New York, too."

"Most likely his profession takes him to the city quite often,"
remarked Dick.

"Wonder if he'll speak to us if he sees us," ventured Sam.

"I don't know and I don't care," came from his big brother. "I didn't
like him at all-- he was too crafty-like."

Their food served, the boys fell to eating with that gusto that
characterizes youths who are still growing. They had about half
finished when Dick felt himself touched on the arm. At his side stood
Belright Fogg.

"Taking a little trip, eh?" remarked the railroad lawyer, with a bland
smile.

"Yes," answered Dick, shortly.

"To New York, I suppose?"

"Yes."

"Well, you got settled about that flying machine, didn't you?" went on
the lawyer, and dropped into the vacant seat opposite Dick, on the
side where Tom sat.

"We did-- but we had some trouble," replied Tom.

"That was a mistake-- to remove the machine," said Belright Fogg. He
gazed at the boys a moment. "I understand you sold the wreck for quite
a price," he continued.

"We didn't get as much as we wanted," said Sam. "We are still quite
something out of pocket."

"But not as much as the railroad company!" The lawyer gave a brief
chuckle, which surprised the lads. "Oh, it's all right, so far as I am
concerned," he continued. "Maybe you'd be interested to know that I no
longer represent that road."

"You don't?" and now Dick was interested.

"No, I handed in my resignation three days ago," answered Belright
Fogg. He did not add that he had been asked to resign by the head of
the railroad company, because of irregularities in his accounts and
because of several professional shortcomings.

"Going to give up law?" asked Tom, for the want of something better to
say.

"Not at all, my boy. I am going down to the city to practice my
profession. There is a much larger field for my abilities down there
than up here," Belright Fogg answered, loftily.

"Yes, New York is pretty large," responded Tom, dryly.

"I expect to open my offices in a few days," went on the lawyer. "If
you ever have any business down there, come in and see me. I will mail
you one of my cards," and with another bland smile, and a bow, he
passed out of the dining car.

"Oh, my, but we are some pumpkins!" murmured Tom. "First thing you
know he'll be putting all the other lawyers in New York out of
business."

"I shouldn't want him for a lawyer," remarked Sam. "He doesn't impress
me very favorably."

"Handed in his resignation, eh?" mused Dick. "More than likely he had
to do it. No, I shouldn't want anything to do with him."

The boys finished their meal, and after paying the bill, returned to
their former seats. They looked around for Belright Fogg, but he was
evidently in some other car of the train.

It was dark, so they could see little of the country through which
they were passing. At one station at which they stopped, a newsboy
came through the train, crying his wares, and Dick purchased several
metropolitan evening papers and handed them around.

"Nothing but politics, a murder, a big auto race, and a new war in
Central America," remarked Tom, thumbing over his paper. "How tired
the reporters must get of writing about the same kind of things every
day."

"They must have exciting times getting the news, sometimes," returned
Sam.

"Here's an advertisement that will interest you," remarked Dick, and
he pointed to the bottom of a page. "Pelter, Japson & Company
advertise themselves as brokers and dealers in high-class Western
securities, and they offer stock in that Sunset Irrigation Company.
That's the company dad was interested in."

All of the boys read the advertisement carefully, but it added nothing
to their stock of knowledge. Then they looked the newspapers over some
more, and finally threw them away.

"Wish we were in New York," sighed Sam. He was growing tired, having
been on the go since early morning.

"We'll be there inside of half an hour," returned Dick, after
consulting his watch.

Presently the long train rolled into the city and came to a stop at
One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street. Then they rolled on and on,
through the city, past block after block of apartment houses, stores
and offices, and private dwellings.

"Talk about a bee hive!" murmured Tom. "You can't beat New York City,
no matter where you go!"

"Well, Chicago is a close second," answered Dick.

"And St. Louis and Philadelphia, and some other cities," put in Sam.
"Ours is a big country and no mistake."

The passengers were already getting their belongings together, and in
the parlor cars the porters were brushing off the people and,
incidentally, pocketing various tips. Then the train rolled into the
Grand Central Depot, now called the Grand Central Terminal.

"Last stop!" was the cry, and the boys piled out, each with his
suitcase. The sleepy crowd moved along the long platform, in the glare
of the electric lights, and through the depot into the busy street.

"Cab!" "Taxi!" "Carry your baggage!" Such were some of the cries which
greeted the boys' ears as they emerged on Forty-second Street. The
clang of the street car gongs added to the din, and newsboys were
everywhere, crying the latest editions of the afternoon papers.

"I'll get a taxi to take us down to the hotel," said Dick, and soon
the brothers were in a taxicab, with the suitcases in front, next to
the driver. "Outlook Hotel," he ordered, and away they moved, out of
the maze of vehicles, for certain thoroughfares of the metropolis are
crowded nearly every hour out of the twenty-four.

"Somebody told me that New York never sleeps, and I guess that is
true," remarked Sam. "It is half-past twelve and look at the people!"

The taxicab turned over into Fifth Avenue and sped down that noted
thoroughfare for about ten blocks. Then it made another turn westward
and reached Broadway, and almost before they knew it, the boys were at
the main entrance to the Outlook Hotel.

Leaving the driver to turn the baggage over to the hotel porters, Dick
paid the fellow and hurried into the building, with Tom and Sam at his
heels. They found the night clerk and his assistant at the desk.

"I am Richard Rover," said Dick, to the head clerk.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Rover," was the answer. "I am glad you have come."

"Have you any word about my father?" went an Dick, quickly.

"Nothing, Mr. Rover. We have made all sorts of inquiries, but we
haven't learned a single thing, excepting that he walked out of this
hotel alone and didn't come back."

  CHAPTER XIII

 AT THE OUTLOOK HOTEL

The news had not been totally unexpected, yet the three lads felt very
much depressed. They had hoped that some sort of word might have been
received concerning their father while they were speeding towards New
York on the train.

"I wish you would give me all the particulars," went on Dick.

"Here comes the manager,-- he can tell you more than I can," replied
the clerk, and he nodded in the direction of a tall, heavy-set
individual who was approaching.

"So you are Mr. Rover's sons, eh?" said Mr. Garley, as he shook hands.
"I am sorry for you, indeed I am. This is certainly a puzzle. Come in
here and I will tell you all I know," and he led the way to a small
reception parlor that was, just then, unoccupied. He drew two chairs
up to a small sofa, so that all might sit close together.

"I don't suppose any word came from the farm for us?" suggested Sam,
as he was about to sit down.

"If anything came in the name of Rover I'd know about it," returned
the hotel manager. "I am very much interested in this case."

"Have you spoken to the police about it?" asked Tom.

"Not yet. I thought that perhaps you would not like it. Sometimes, you
know, men go away and leave no word, and, later on, they come back,
and they don't want anything said about it. So we have to be careful."

"What have you got to tell us?" asked Dick.

"It isn't very much. In the first place, though, I don't think your
father was in the best of health. I noticed that, and so did one of my
clerks and one of the elevator men."

"Did he have an attack while he was here?" cried Sam.

"I don't know about that. But we all noticed that he was feeble at
times-- and that he seemed to be very much worried over something. He
was continually getting his notebook out and doing some writing or
figuring, and then he would shake his head, as if it didn't please him
at all."

"Yes, he was worried over some business matters," answered Dick. "But
that wasn't bad enough to make him go off like this and leave no word.
When was he last seen?"

"In the morning, about ten o'clock. He came down in one of the
elevators with a small package in his hand-- a package, so the
elevator man said, that looked like some legal documents. He seemed to
be very much disturbed, and the man said he talked to himself. He
hurried out of the side door of the hotel, but one of the doormen saw
him go to the corner and turn down Broadway-- and that was the last
seen of him, so far as we knew."

"And what of the things in his room?" questioned Dick.

"Outside of the usual cleaning up, I have had everything left as it
was," answered the hotel manager. "You may go up there, if you wish."

"We will,-- and we'll most likely want rooms, too."

"The room next to his is vacant, you can have that if you wish."

"All right, we'll take it," returned Tom. "Do they connect?"

"Yes. I'll have the hallman unlock the connecting door for you."

They were soon in an elevator, a boy bringing up their baggage. They
passed to the fourth floor of the hotel and to the rear.

"Your father wanted a quiet room, so we put him on the court,"
explained the manager of the Outlook Hotel, as he unlocked the door
and turned on the electric lights.

It was a typical hotel room of the better class, with a brass bed, a
bureau, a desk, and several chairs. At one side was a small bathroom.

On a chair rested Mr. Rover's suitcase, locked but unstrapped. On the
bureau were his comb and brush, a whisk broom, and some other toilet
articles. On some hooks hung a coat and a cap. They glanced into the
bathroom, and in a cup on the marble washstand saw his toothbrush.

"He certainly meant to come back," murmured Tom.

"Yes, and that very soon-- or else he wouldn't have left these things
lying around," added his younger brother.

Dick passed over to the coat that hung on a hook and felt in the
pockets. They contained nothing but some railroad timetables.

"Can't you call up some of your father's business friends or
acquaintances?" suggested the hotel manager.

"He had very few acquaintances in the city," answered Dick. "He used
to have some close friends, but they are either dead or have moved
away. As for the business men he had dealings with-- I guess I had
better see them in the morning."

"Then, if there isn't anything more I can do, I'll leave you,"
returned the hotel manager.

"Nothing more at present," answered Dick.

With the hotel manager gone, the boys closed the door leading to the
hallway and sat down to discuss the situation. The door between the
two bedrooms had already been opened by a hallman, so that they would
have ample sleeping accommodations when they wished to retire. But
just now they were too excited and worried to think of sleeping.

"Maybe we had better put the police at work," suggested Sam.

"We surely ought to do something," added Tom.

"What can the police do-- with no clews to work on?" asked their big
brother.

"They might look around in the hospitals for him."

"I don't think we'll find him in any hospital."

"Why not, if he met with an accident?"

"I don't believe there was any accident," continued Dick, earnestly.

"Do you think he met with foul play at the hands of those men he came
to see?" demanded Sam.

"It looks that way to me, Sam."

"Then we ought to have them locked up at once!"

"How can we-- when we have no evidence against them?"

"Let us look into dad's suitcase," suggested Tom.

"I'll see if I can unlock it."

Dick had a bunch of keys in his pocket, as did Tom and Sam, and the
boys tried the keys one after another. At last they found one which
fitted, and the suitcase came open.

The bag contained the usual assortment of wearing apparel which Mr.
Rover was in the habit of carrying when on a trip that was to last but
a few days or a week. In addition, there were several letters and
documents, placed in a thick manila envelope and marked with the
owner's name.

The boys read the letters and documents with interest. From them they
learned that Mr. Rover had been requested to come to the city
immediately, to see about some business connected with the Sunset
Irrigation Company. The documents were some transfers of stock which
they did not quite understand.

"He came down here to see Pelter, Japson & Company, that's certain,"
remarked Dick. "It eras evidently the only reason why he came to New
York. Now the question is, Did he go and see those men, and did they
waylay him, or did they hire somebody to do it?"

"I wish we knew more about those men," said Tom. "You can soon size a
fellow up when you talk to him."

"Not always," answered Sam. "Sometimes the smoothest talkers are the
greatest rascals. Don't you remember how nicely Josiah Crabtree used
to talk to Mrs. Stanhope, and see what a rascal he turned out to be!"

"I wonder if they have captured him yet," mused Tom.

"Never mind Crabtree now," put in Dick. "What we want to do is to find
father. I don't know exactly how we are going at it, but I think I'll
have some sort of plan by morning."

"We can go down to Pelter, Japson & Company and make them tell what
they know," said Sam.

"They'll tell what they feel like telling, Sam,-- and that might not
do us any good. Mind you, I don't say they did father any harm. But I
know they didn't like the way he was getting after them, for they knew
that, sooner or later, he might sue them and possibly put one or more
of them in jail for fraud."

For fully an hour the boys talked the situation over, and by that time
Sam was so sleepy he could scarcely keep his eyes open. Then they
retired, Dick remaining in the apartment his father had occupied, and
Sam and Tom taking the next room.

For over half an hour Dick turned and tossed on the bed-- his mind
filled with thoughts of his father. What had become of his parent? Had
he been hurt, or killed, or was he being held a prisoner by his
enemies? What if his father should never be heard of again? The last
thought was so horrible it made the youth shiver.

"We've got to find him!" he murmured, as he drew the bedclothes around
him. "We've got to do it!"

At last Dick fell into a troubled sleep, following the example of his
brothers, who had also found difficulty in settling themselves.

Presently the oldest Rover boy awoke with a start. He sat up in bed,
wondering what had thus awakened him.

From the next room came the regular breathing of Sam and Tom, showing
that they were still in the land of slumber. Dick listened, but no
unusual sound broke the stillness.

"It must have been my nervousness," he thought. "Father's
disappearance has been too much for me. Well, it's enough to get on
anybody's nerves."

He prepared to lie down again, when a faint scraping sound caught his
ear. He listened intently.

Somebody was at the hallway door, trying to insert a key in the lock.
But the key would not go in, because of the key already there.

"Maybe it's father coming back!" thought the youth, and leaped from
the bed to the floor. Three steps took him to the door and he quickly
turned the key and caught hold of the handle.

As Dick started to fling the door open he heard a muttered exclamation
of dismay in the hall outside. Then came the sound of retreating
footsteps, and a slight tinkle, as of metal striking metal.

"Hi, stop! Who are you?" called the youth, and the cry aroused Tom and
Sam. He flung open the door and leaped into the semi-dark hallway. The
figure of a man was just disappearing around a corner. Dick saw that
he wore a heavy beard and that was all.

The oldest Rover boy was thoroughly aroused now, and calling to Sam
and Tom to follow, he darted after the flying individual. But by the
time he reached the corner of the corridor the man was out of sight.
He heard a distant door shut and then all became quiet.

"Who was it?" asked Tom, as he joined Dick.

"Was the fellow in your room?" asked Sam.

"No, but he was trying to get in," answered Dick. "When I woke up he
was trying to put a key in the lock. When I started to open the door,
thinking it might be dad, the fellow ran away."

"Was it a hallman?"

"I don't think so."

"Where did he go to?"

"Somewhere in this part of the hotel. I just heard a door shut."

"Then he must be on this floor," said Tom. "Say, we ought to
investigate this. Did you get a look at him, Dick?"

"Not much of a look. I saw he had a heavy beard."

By this time one of the hallmen was coming up, and to him the boys
explained what had happened. He was much interested, for he knew about
the disappearance of Mr. Rover, and said he would report to the
office.

"I think I heard something drop," said Dick, as the boys returned to
the rooms, to put on some clothing. "Hello, here they are! A bunch of
keys!" And he held them up.

"One of 'em is new," said Sam, examining the bunch.

"Maybe it was made for the lock of the door to the room father
occupied," suggested Tom.

"It's like the old key," returned Dick, comparing the two. "That
rascal, whoever he is, must have had the key made for the sole purpose
of getting into this room!"

"But for what reason?" questioned Sam.

"To get at dad's private papers," answered his big brother. "Boys, if
we catch that man maybe we'll be able to find out what has become of
father!"

  CHAPTER XIV

 DICK MAKES A DISCOVERY

While the boys were discussing the situation one of the night clerks
of the hotel arrived, having been summoned by the hallman. He listened
with interest to what the lads had to tell.

"I'll set the house detective on this," he said. "We can't allow
anybody to prowl around, trying to use false keys."

"We want to catch that man ourselves," said Dick. "We are going to set
a watch for him. No more sleep for us to-night."

"I don't blame you," returned the clerk. "If you spot him, call up the
office and we'll give you all the help you want."

The boys hurried into their clothing, and then, led by Dick, walked
noiselessly through the various hallways of the big hotel in the
direction where the oldest Rover boy had heard the door shut. But
though they passed many doors, Dick could not determine which was the
right one.

"Let us set a regular watch," suggested Tom "We can take turns. One
can watch while the others sleep."

"All right, I'll watch first," answered Dick.

"Call me in an hour, Dick," returned Tom.

"And call me an hour after that-- if you want me," added Sam.

The hallway was long and but dimly lighted. At the end was a sofa, and
after walking up and down several times, Dick sat down on this. The
long journey from Valley Brook farm had made him sleepy, but he
resolved to keep wide awake, in case the mysterious individual should
again show himself.

"He's got to come out of his door some time, unless he tries to get
away by a fire escape," thought the youth. "And I guess all the fire
escapes on this side of the building are at the end of the hall. I
hope I've got him trapped, whoever he is."

Half an hour went by and nothing unusual happened. Then Dick heard a
distant elevator stop, and two men got off and came down the hallway.
They stared rather curiously at the youth.

"What's the matter?" asked one, presently.

"Waiting for a friend," was the answer.

"Humph! rather late," remarked the man.

"Better say early, Jack," laughed the other. "It's ten after two."

"Is that so! Great Scott! Time we got to bed!" And the two men passed
into a nearby room, locking the door after them.

After that came another period of silence, broken only by the sounds
of the two men undressing. To keep himself awake Dick commenced to
walk up and down the long hallway again.

"I guess I'll call Tom," he thought, at last, after more than an hour
had passed. "I've got to get some sleep, or I won't be worth anything
in the morning. And if I am to call on Messrs. Pelter, Japson &
Company I want to have my wits about me."

He stepped around the corner of the hallway, in the direction where
his own room was located. He did not know that a man with eager eyes
was watching him,-- a man who stood on a chair in one of the rooms,
peering through the transom light of the door.

"Gone at last-- I was afraid he would stay here all night!" muttered
the man. "Now is my chance to get away. I didn't think they'd get here
to-night. I should have gotten that key made sooner." And opening the
door noiselessly, he came out into the hallway. He wore a thin
overcoat and a slouch hat, and a heavy beard covered his face.

Dick hurried his steps and called Tom, and then went back to the other
hallway, unwilling to leave it unguarded even for a few minutes. He
was just in time to see somebody disappearing down a broad flight of
stairs to the floor below.

"Hello! who's that?" he asked himself, and ran towards the stairs.
When he arrived there he looked down, to see the man going down
further, to the ground floor of the hotel.

"The same fellow, I'll bet all I'm worth!" cried Dick. "There is that
heavy beard! He must have been watching for a chance to get away! What
a chump I was to let him get out! I've got to stop him!" And he
bounded down the stairs three steps at a time.

By the time Dick reached the next floor the man was in the lower
corridor of the big hotel. Here, in spite of the hour, quite a few
people were stirring-- coming in from late suppers after an evening at
the play or opera. The man moved into the crowd and towards the main
entrance on Broadway.

"Hi! Stop him! Stop that man!" cried the oldest Rover boy, as he, too,
gained the lower corridor. But the man had already gotten out on
Broadway. As Dick came out he saw the fellow run across the street to
a distant corner and leap into a taxicab that was empty. The driver
was on the seat and the turnout started rapidly away.

"You're not going to get away if I can help it," muttered Dick,
desperately, and looked around for another taxicab. One stood halfway
down the block, the driver taking a nap inside.

"Wake up!" exclaimed Dick, shaking the man. "See that taxi? I want to
follow it! Don't let it get out of your sight, if you want your fare
and a couple of dollars besides."

"I'm on!" answered the driver, and leaped into his seat, while Dick
got into the cab. Away they started, in the full glare of the electric
lights of Broadway.

The course was downtown, and the first taxicab made rapid progress.
The man inside looked back and when he saw Dick following him, he
spoke hurriedly to his driver. Then the cab turned swiftly into a side
street, and, reaching Fifth Avenue, shot northward on that well-known
thoroughfare.

"Can you catch that other taxi?" asked Dick, anxiously.

"I can try," was the grim answer. "He's going some, though!"

"Maybe they'll be held up at some cross street."

"Not this time in the morning," answered the driver, "They've got a
straight road to the Park."

On and on went one taxicab after the other. Fifty-fifth Street was
passed and still the first turnout kept well in the lead. But then a
big furniture van appeared out of a side street and the cab ahead had
to slow down.

"Now is your chance!" cried Dick. "Run up alongside of 'em!"

His driver did as requested. But then came a mix-up, as two more cabs
appeared, and Dick's was caught between them. He looked ahead and saw
the man with the heavy beard leap to the ground.

"Guess your man is going to run for the Park!" cried the taxicab
driver. "Hold on-- I want my money first, young fellow!"

Dick had leaped to the ground, bent on catching the fleeing
individual. He pulled some bills from his pocket.

"Here is five dollars-- wait for me!" he cried. "Or maybe you had
better come along. That fellow is a criminal."

"I'll wait here," answered the taxicab driver. He did not wish to
become mixed up in an affair which he did not understand.

The corner of Central Park at Fifty-seventh Street was already in
sight. The bearded man ran swiftly across the broad plaza and the
sidewalk. Then he darted along the side of the Park and on to the path
leading to the menagerie. In a moment more the darkness of the place
swallowed him up.

"Hey there, what are you running for?" It was a challenge from a Park
policeman, as he stepped in front of Dick.

"I wanted to catch that man who just ran in here," explained the
youth.

"I didn't see any man."

"Well, he went in here just now. He ran away from the Outlook Hotel in
a taxi and got out just below here."

"Who is he?" asked the policeman, becoming interested.

"I don't know. But he tried to get in my room at the hotel. The hotel
men want to catch him."

"Humph! Well he's gone now."

Dick continued to look around for the escaped man, but it was all to
no purpose. Then he returned to where he had left the taxicab. He
found his driver in earnest conversation with the other driver.

"That fellow didn't pay me a cent!" complained the other driver,
bitterly. "An' after me doing my best for him, too!"

"Why did you try to run away?" asked Dick, coldly.

"I thought it was all right. He said he had a 'phone message that his
father was dying and he must git up town at once, and he promised me
big pay. I didn't know he was trying to git away from anybody."

"Well, it's too bad he got away from all of us. By the way, can you
describe him to me?" went on Dick, curiously.

"Don't you know him?"

"Only by reputation-- and that's bad," and Dick smiled grimly.

"He was tall and thin and didn't have much hair on his head. I think
them whiskers was false."