THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE

Or

Stirring Adventures in Africa


By Arthur M. Winfield
(Edward Stratemeyer)



INTRODUCTION

My dear boys:

This volume, "The Rover Boys in the jungle," is the third story of
the "Rover Boys Series," and while a complete tale in itself,
forms a companion story to "The Rover Boys at School" and "The
Rover Boys on the Ocean," which preceded it.

In the former volumes I told you much of the doings of Dick, Tom,
and Sam at Putnam Hall and during a remarkable chase on the
Atlantic Ocean.  In the present story the scene is shifted from
the military academy, where the boys are cadets, to the wilds of
Africa, whither the lads with their uncle have gone to look for
Anderson Rover, the boys' father, who had disappeared many years
before. A remarkable message from the sea causes the party to
leave this country, and they journey to Africa, little dreaming of
all the stirring adventures which await them in the heart of the
Dark Continent. How they battle against their many perils, and
what the outcome of their remarkable search is, I will leave for
the pages that follow to explain.

In conclusion, let me state that I am extremely grateful for the
kind favor given the previous volumes of this series, and I
sincerely trust that the present tale merits a continuance of your
support.

Affectionately and sincerely yours,

EDWARD STRATEMEYER
November 10, 1899



THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE




CHAPTER I

UNPLEASANT NEWS

"Back to Putnam Hall again, boys!  Hurrah!"

"Yes, back again, Tom, and glad of it," returned Dick Rover.  "I
can tell you, the academy is getting to be a regular second home."

"Right you are, Dick," came from Sam Rover, the youngest of the
three brothers.  "I'd rather be here than up to the farm, even if
Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha are kind and considerate.  The farm
is so slow -"

"While here we have our full share of adventures and more,"
finished Tom.  "I wonder what will happen to us this term?  The
other terms kept us mighty busy, didn't they?"

"I'm not looking for any more outside adventures," said Dick, with
a serious shake of his head.  "Our enemies have been disposed of,
and I don't want, to hear of or see them again."

"Nor I -- but we'll hear of them, nevertheless, mark my words.
The Baxters won't leave us rest.  They are a hard crowd, and Buddy
Girk is just as bad," finished Tom.

It was the opening of the spring term at Putnam Hall Military
Academy, and the three Rover boys had just come up from Cedarville
in the carryall, driven by Peleg Snuggers, the general-utility man
of the place.  Their old chums, Frank Harrington, Fred Garrison,
Larry Colby, and a number of others, had already arrived, so the
boys did not lack for company.  As they entered the spacious
building genial Captain Putnam greeted each with a hearty
handshake, and a pleasant word also came to them from George
Strong, the head assistant.

For the benefit of those who have not read the other books of this
series, entitled "The Rover Boys at School" and "The Rover Boys
on the Ocean," I would state that the Rover boys were three in
number, Dick being the oldest, Tom next, and Sam the youngest, as
already mentioned.  Whether the boys were orphans or not was a
question which could not be answered.  Upon the death of their
mother, their father, a rich mine owner and geological expert, had
left the boys in the care of his brother, Randolph Rover, an
eccentric gentleman who devoted his entire time to scientific
farming.  Mr. Anderson Rover had then journeyed to the western
coast of Africa, hoping to locate some valuable gold mines in the
heart of the Dark Continent.  He had plunged into the interior
with a number of natives, and that was the last heard of him,
although Mr. Randolph Rover had made diligent inquiries concerning
his whereabouts.

All of the boys were bright, fun-loving fellows, and to keep them
out of mischief Randolph Rover had sent them off to Putnam Hall, a
first class school, located some distance from Cedarville, a
pretty town on Lake Cayuga, in New York State.  Here the lads had
made numerous friends and incidentally a number of enemies.

Of the friends several have already been named, and others will
come to the front as our story proceeds.  Of the enemies the
principal ones were Arnold Baxter, a man who had tried, years
before, to defraud the boys' father out of a gold mine in the
West, and his son Dan, who had once been the bully of Putnam Hall.
Arnold Baxter's tool was a good-for-nothing scamp named Buddy
Girk, who had once robbed Dick of his watch.  Both of these men
were now in jail charged with an important robbery in Albany, and
the Rover boys had aided in bringing the men to justice.  Dan, the
bully, was also under arrest, charged with the abduction of Dom
Stanhope.  Dom, who was Dick Rover's dearest friend, had been
carried off by the directions of Josiah Crabtree, a former teacher
of Putnam Hall, who wished to marry Mrs. Stanhope and thus get his
hands on the money the widow held in trust for her daughter, but
the abduction had been nipped in the bud and Josiah Crabtree had
fled, leaving Dan Baxter to shoulder the blame of the transaction.
How Dora was restored to her mother and what happened afterward,
old readers already know.

A winter had passed since the events narrated above, and before
and after the holidays the Rover boys had studied diligently, to
make up for the time lost on that never-to-be-forgotten ocean
chase.  Their efforts had not been in vain, and each lad had been
promoted to the next higher class, much to Randolph Rover's 
satisfaction and the joy of their tender-hearted Aunt Martha.

"The boys are all right, even if they do love to play pranks," was
Randolph Rover's comment, when he heard of the promotions.  "I
trust they improve their time during the term to come."

"They are good boys, Randolph," returned Mr. Rover.  "They would
not be real boys if they did not cut up once in a while.  As to
their daring -- why, they simply take after their father.  Poor
man.  If only we knew, what had become of him."

"Yes, a great weight would be lifted from our shoulders, Martha,
if we knew that.  But we do not know, and there seems to be no way
of finding out.  I have written to the authorities at various
places in Africa until I know not whom to address next."

"He must be dead, otherwise he would write or come home, Randolph.
He was not one to keep us in the dark so long."

"I cannot believe my brother dead, and the boys will not believe
it either.  Do you know what Dick said to me before he left for
school?  He said, that if we didn't get word he was going to
Africa some day to hunt his father up."

"To Africa!  What will that boy do in such a jungle, and among
such fierce natives?  He will be killed!"

"Perhaps not.  The boy is uncommonly shrewd, when it comes to
dealing with his enemies.  Just look how nicely he and Tom and Sam
served Arnold Baxter and those others.  It was wonderful doings --
for, boys."

"Yes, but they may not be so successful always, Randolph.  I
should hate to see them run into any more, danger."

"So should I, my dear.  But they will take care of themselves, I
feel that more and more every day," concluded Randolph Rover; and
there, for the time being, the subject was dropped.

"I wonder what has become of old Josiah Crabtree?" remarked Dick
Rover, as he and his brothers walked around the parade ground to
inspect several improvement which Captain Putnam had caused to be
made.

"I'm sure I can't guess," answered Tom.

"Like as not he became scared to death.  I suppose you'll be
satisfied if he keeps away from Dora and her mother in the
future?"

"Yes; I never want to set eyes on him again, Tom.  He worried the
widow half to death with his strange ways."

"I wonder how the Baxters feel to be locked up?" put in Sam.  "I
know Arnold Baxter is used to it, but it's a new experience for
Dan."

"Dan is as bad as his father," broke in Larry Colby, who had
joined the brothers.  "I was glad to hear that Mumps had turned
over a new leaf and cut the bully dead."

"Oh, so were all of us!" said Tom.  "By the way, do you know where
Mumps is now?  In the mining business, out West, acting as some
sort of a clerk."

"A spell in the West will take the nonsense out of him," came from
Dick.  "It was a great pity he ever got under Dan Baxter's
influence I wonder how Arnold Baxter is getting along?  He was
quite severely wounded, you know, during that tussle on the
yachts."

"He's about over that, so Frank Harrington says," replied Larry.
"I'll wager he is mighty bitter against you fellows for having put
him where he is."

"It was his own, fault, Larry.  If a person is going to do wrong
he must take the consequences. Mr. Baxter might today be a fairly
well-to-do mine owner of the West and Dan might be a leading cadet
here.  But instead they both threw themselves away -- and now they
must take what comes."

"My father used to say it took all kind of people to make a
world," went on Larry.  "But I reckon we could do without the
Baxter and the Buddy Girk kind."

"And the Josiah Crabtree kind," added Sam.  "Don't forget that
miserable sneak."

"Perhaps Crabtree has reformed, like Mumps."

"It wasn't in him to reform, Larry," came from Tom.  "Oh, how I
detested him, with his slick, oily tongue!  I wish they had caught
him and placed him where he deserved to be, with the Baxters."

"Yes, and then we could -" began Sam, when he stopped.  "Hullo,
Frank, what are, you running so fast about?" he cried.

"Just got a letter from my father!"  burst out Frank Harrington,
as he came up out of breath.  "I knew you would want to hear the
news.  Dan Baxter has escaped from jail and the authorities don't
know where to look for him."





CHAPTER II

NEWCOMERS AT THE ACADEMY


"Dan Baxter has escaped!" repeated Dick.  "That is news indeed.
Does your father give my particulars?"

"He says it is reported that the jailer was sick and unable to
stop Dan."

"Humph!  Then they must have had some sort of a row," put in Tom.
"Well, it does beat the nation how the Baxters do it.  Don't you
remember how Arnold Baxter escaped from the hospital authorities
last year?"

"Those Baxters are as slick as you can make them," said Frank.
"I've been thinking if Dan would dare to show himself around
Putnam Hall."

"Not he!" cried Larry.  "He'll travel as far can and as fast as he
can."

"Perhaps not," mused Dick. "I rather he will hang around and try to
help his father out of prison."

"That won't help him, for the authorities will be on strict guard
now.  You know the stable door is always locked after the horse is
stolen."

At this there was a general laugh, and when it ended a loud roll
of a drum made the young cadets hurry to the front of the parade
ground.

"Fall in, Companies A and B!" came the command from the major of
the battalion, and the boys fell in.  Dick was now a first
lieutenant, while Tom and Sam were first and second sergeants
respectively.

As soon as the companies were formed they were marched around the
Hall and to the messroom.  Here they were kept standing in a long
fine while George Strong came to the front with half a dozen new
pupils.

"Young gentlemen, I will introduce to you several who will join
your ranks for this season," said the head assistant.  Then he
began to name the half dozen.  Among others they included a
round-faced German youth named Hans Mueller, and a tall, lank,
red-haired boy, of Irish descent who rejoiced in the name of Jim
Caven.

"I'll wager the Dutch boy is full of fun," whispered Sam to Tom.
"You can see it in his eyes."

"I don't like the looks of that Jim Caven," returned Tom.  "He
looks like a worse sneak than Mumps ever was."

"I agree there.  Perhaps we had better keep, our eyes open for
him."

Despite this talk, however, the newcomers were welcomed cordially,
and to the credit of the students be it said that each old cadet
did all in his power to make the new boys feel perfectly at home.

"Mine fadder vos von soldier py der Cherman army," said Hans
Mueller.  "Dot's vy he sent me py a military academy ven we come
py dis country."

"Glad to know you intend to help us fight the Indians," answered
Tom innocently.

"Me fight der Indians?  Vot you means py dot?" demanded Hans, his
light-blue eyes wide open with interest.

"Why, don't you know that we are here to learn how to fight
Indians?" went on Tom, with a side wink at those around him.

"No; I dink me dis vos von school only."

"So it is -- a school to learn how to shoot and scalp."

"Schalp!  Vot's dot?"

"Cut an Indian's top-knot off with a knife, this way," and Tom
made an imaginary slash at Hans' golden locks.

"Ton't do dot!" stammered the German boy, falling back.  "No, I
ton't vant to learn to schalp, noputty."

"But you are willing to fight the Indians, are you not?" put in
Sam.  "We are all going to do that, you know."

"I ton't like dem Indians," sighed Hans.  "I see me some of dem
vonde by a show in Chermany, und I vos afraid."

At this a laugh went up.  How much further the joke would have
been carried it is impossible to say, but just then a bell rang
and the boys had to go into the classroom.  But Tom remembered
about the Indians, as the others found out about a week later.

As the majority of the scholars had been to the Hall before, it
did not take long for matters to become settled, and in a few days
all of the boys felt thoroughly at home, that is, all but Jim
Caven, who went around with that same sneaking look on his face
that Tom had first noticed.  He made but few friends, and those
only among the smaller boys who had plenty of pocket money to
spend.  Caven rarely showed any money of his own.

With the coming of spring the cadets formed, as of old, several
football teams, and played several notches, including one with
their old rivals, the pupils of Pornell Academy.  This game they
lost, by a score of four to five, which made the Pornellites feel
much better, they having lost every game in the past. (For the
doings of the Putnam Hall students previous to the arrival at that
institution of the Rover boys see, "The Putnam Hall Series," the
first volume of which is entitled, "The Putnam Hall Cadets." -
Publisher)

"Well, we can't expect to beat always," said Tom, who played
quarterback on the Putnam team.  "We gave them a close brush."

"Yes, and we might have won if Larry hadn't slipped and sprained
his ankle," put in Sam.  "Well, never mind; better luck next time.
We'll play them again next fall."  Sam was right so far as a game
between the rival academies was concerned, but none of the Rover
boys were on hand to take part in the contest -- for reasons which
the chapter to follow will disclose.

With the football came kite-flying, and wonderful indeed were some
of the kites which the boys manufactured.

"I can tell you, if a fellow had time he could reduce kite-flying
to a regular science," said Dick.

"Oh, Dick, don't give us any more science!" cried Sam.  "We get
enough of science from, Uncle Randolph, with his scientific
farming, fowl-raising, and the like.  I would just as lief fly an
old-fashioned kite as anything."

"Dick is right, though," put in Fred Garrison.  "Now you have a
big flat-kite there, three times larger than mine.  Yet I'll wager
my little box kite will fly higher than your kite."

"Done!" cried Sam.  "What shall the wager be?"

"Ice cream for the boys of our dormitory," answered Fred.

"All right, but how is a fellow to get the cream if he loses?"

"That's for him to find out, Sam.  If I lose I'll sneak off to
Cedarville, as Dick did once, and buy what I need."

"Ice cream for our room it is," said. Frank.

"And mum's the word about the wager, or Captain Putnam will spoil
the whole affair if he gets wind of it."

"Make me stakeholder," grinned Tom.  I'd just like to lay hands on
about two quarts of chocolate cream."

"There won't be any stakeholder," said Dick.

"But when is this kite-flying contest to come off?"

The matter was talked over, and it was decided to wait until the
next Saturday, which would be, as usual, a half-holiday.  In the
meantime some of the other boys heard there was going to be a
contest, although they knew nothing of the wager made, and half a
dozen other matches were arranged.

Saturday proved to be cool and clear with a stiff breeze blowing
directly from the west.   This being so, it was decided, in order
to get clear of the woods in front of the Hall, to hold the
contests on Baker's Plain, a level patch of ground some distance
to the westward.

The cadets were soon on the way, shouting and laughing merrily
over the sport promised.  Only a few remained behind, including
Jim Caven, who gave as his excuse that he had a headache.

"I'm glad he is not with us," said Dick.  "I declare, for some
reason, I can't bear to have him around."

"Nor I," returned Frank.  "It's queer, but he gives me the shivers
whenever he comes near me."

"It's a wonder he came here at all.  He doesn't belong in our
style of a crowd."

To reach Baker's Plain the cadets had to make a detour around a
high cliff which overlooked a rocky watercourse which flowed into
Cayuga Lake.  They moved slowly, as nobody wished to damage his
kite, and it was after two o'clock before all hands were ready for
the first trial at kite-flying.

"Gracious, but it is blowing!" cried Tom.

"Sam, have you a good strong cord on your kite?"

"The strongest I could get," answered the youngest Rover.  "I
guess it is stronger than what Fred has."

"My kite won't pull like yours," said Fred Garrison.  "All ready?"

"Yes."

"Then up they go -- and may the best kite win!"

Soon a dozen kites of various kinds were soaring in the air, some
quite steadily and others darting angrily from side to side.  One
went up with a swoop, to come down with a bang on the rocks, thus
knocking itself into a hundred pieces.

"Mine cracious, look at dot!" burst out Hans Mueller.  "Mine
Gretchen kite vos busted up -- und I spent me feefteen cents on
him alreety!" and a roar went up.

"Never mind, Hans," said Dick. "You can help sail the Katydid.
She will pull strong enough for two, I am sure."

The Katydid was a wonderful affair of silver and gold which Dick
had constructed on ideas entirely his own.  It went up slowly but
surely and proved to be as good a kite as the majority.

A number of girls living in the neighborhood, bad heard of the
kite-flying contests, and now they came up, Dora Stanhope with the
rest, accompanied by her two cousins, Grace and Nellie Laning.  As
my old readers may guess, Dick was very attentive to Dora, and his
brothers were scarcely less so to the two Laning sisters.

"And how is your mother?" Dick asked of Dom, during the course of
their conversation.

"She is much better," replied Dora, "although she is still weak
from her sickness."

"Does she ever mention Josiah Crabtree?"

"She mentioned him once.  She said that she had dreamed of him and
of you, Nick."

"Me?  And what was the dream?"

"Oh - it was only a silly affair, Dick, not worth mentioning."

"But I would like to know what it was."

"Well, then, she dreamed that both of you were in a big forest and
he was about to attack you with a gun or a club, she couldn't tell
which.  She awoke screaming and I ran to her side, and that is how
she told me of the dream."





CHAPTER III

AN OLD ENEMY TURNS UP

"That was certainly an odd dream," said Dick, after a short pause.
"I am sure I never want to meet Josiah Crabtree under such
circumstances."

"It was silly, Dick -- I'd forget it if I was you."

"And she never mentioned the man at any other time?"

"No.  But I am certain she is glad he has left for parts unknown.
I never, never, want to see him again," and the girl shivered.

"Don't be alarmed, Dora; I don't think he will dare to show
himself," answered Dick, and on the sly gave her hand a tight
squeeze.  They were warmer friends than ever since Dick had
rescued her from those who had abducted her.

The kite-flying was now in "full blast," as Sam expressed it, and
the boys had all they could do to keep the various lines from
becoming tangled up.  His own kite and Fred's were side by side
and for a long time it looked as if neither would mount above the
other.

"Run her up, Fred!  You can win if you try!" cried several of the
cadets.

"Play out a bit more, Sam; you haven't given your kite all the
slack she wants," said others.  So the talk ran on, while each
contestant did the best to make his kite mount higher.  In the
meantime the wind kept increasing in violence, making each kite
pull harder than ever.

"It's a dandy for flying," panted Tom, who was holding his kite
with all the strength he possessed.  "Something must give way
soon," and something did give way.  It was the string he was
holding, and as it snapped he went over on his back in such a
comical fashion that all, even to the girls, had to laugh.

"Torn!  Tom!  What a sight!" burst out Nellie Laning.  "You should
have brought a stronger cord."

"If I had I'd a-gone up in the clouds," answered Tom ruefully.
"That's the last of that kite, I suppose; if I -"

"The string has caught on Sam's kite!" interrupted Grace Laning.
"Oh, my!  See both of them going up!"

"Now you can win, Sam!" laughed Dora.  "Fred, your flying is
nowhere now."

"He didn't calculate to fly one kite against two," answered Fred.
"Hold on, Sam, where are you going?  The cliff is over in that
direction!" he yelled suddenly.

"I -- I know it!" came back the alarming answer.  "But I can't
stop myself!"

"He can't stop himself!" repeated Dora.

"Oh, stop him somebody, before he goes over the cliff!"

"Let go of the line!" shouted Dick.  "Don't go any closer to the
cliff!"

"I -- I can't let go!  The line is fast around my wrist!" gasped
poor Sam.  "Oh, dear, it's cutting me like a knife!"

"He's in a mess," came from Frank.  "If he isn't careful he'll go
over the cliff, as sure as he's born!"

"Throw yourself down!" went on Dick, and, leaving his kite in Hans
Mueller's care, he ran after his brother.

By this time Sam had gained a few bushes which grew but a dozen
feet away from the edge of the cliff, that at this point was
nearly forty feet in height.  With his right hand held a painful
prisoner, he clutched at the bushes with his left.

"I've got the bushes, but I can't hold on long!" he panted, as
Dick came close.  "Help me, quick!"

Scarcely had the words left his mouth when the bushes came up by
the roots and poor Sam fell over on his side.  Then came another
strong puff of wind, and he was dragged to the very edge of the
rocky ledge!

"I'm going!" he screamed, when, making a mighty leap, Dick caught
him by the foot.

"Catch the rock -- anything!" cried the older brother.  "If you
don't you'll be killed!"

"Save me!" was all poor Sam could say.  "Oh, Dick, don't let me go
over!"

"I'll do my best, Sam," was Dick's answer, and he held on like
grim death.

By this time half a dozen boys were running to the scene.  Dora
Stanhope followed, and as she came up she pulled a tiny penknife
from her pocket.

"Can't I cut the line with this?" she asked, timidly, as she
pushed her way to Dick's side.

"Yes, Yes; cut it!" moaned Sam.  "Oh, my wrist is almost cut in
two!"

Stooping low, Dora sawed away at the kite line, which was as taut
as a string on a bass fiddle.  Suddenly there was a loud snap and
the cord parted.  Sam and Dick fell back from the edge of the
cliff, while the entangled kites soared away for parts unknown.

"Thank Heaven you cut the line, Dora!" said Dick, who was the
first to recover from the excitement of the situation.  He saw
that Dom was trembling like a leaf, and he hastened to her
support, but she pushed him away and pointed to Sam.

"Don't mind me -- I am all right, Dick," she said.  "Go care for
poor Sam.  See how his wrist is bleeding!  Oh, how dreadful!"

"Here is my handkerchief; he had better bind it up with that,"
said Grace Laning, as she offered the article.

"We'll wash the wound first," put in Frank, and raced off for some
water.  Soon he returned with his stiff hat full, and the cut on
Sam's wrist was tenderly washed by the Laning girls, who then
bound it up with the skill of a hospital surgeon.

The kite-flying continued for the balance of the afternoon.  But
Sam and Dick had had enough of it, and, along with Tom, they took
a stroll along the lake front with Dora Stanhope and Grace and
Nellie.  Of course both boys and girls talked a whole lot of
nonsense, yet all enjoyed the walk very much.

"This is the spot where they abducted me," shivered Dora, as they
came to the old boathouse.  "Oh, what a dreadful time that was, to
be sure!"

"I don't believe our enemies will bother you any more, Dora," said
Dick.  "It's not likely that old Crabtree Will try the same game
twice; and Mumps has really turned over a new leaf and gone to
work for a living."

"Yes, I was glad to hear that, for I don't believe he was such a
bad fellow at heart.  He was under Dan Baxter's influence, just as
- as --"

"As Josiah Crabtree tried to influence your mother," whispered
Dick, and Dora nodded slowly.  "Well, let us forget it, and -- My
gracious!"

Dick stopped short, to stare in open-mouthed wonder at a small
boat shooting down the lake at a distance of several hundred yards
from the shore.

"What's up?" came simultaneously from Tom and Sam.

"Don't you see that fellow in the boat?" demanded Dick, in
increased wonder.

"Of course we see him," answered Tom.

"Don't you recognize him?"

"No; he's too far off," came from Sam..

"It's Dan Baxter!"

"Baxter!" cried Dora.  "Oh, Dick!"

"Nonsense!" said Tom.  "How could he be am here?"

"It does look a little like Baxter," was Sam's slow comment.  "Yet
it seems impossible that he could be here, as Tom says."

"I say it's Baxter," affirmed Dick stoutly,  "I'll hail him and
make sure."

"Oh, don't bring him over here!" interposed Dora, becoming
alarmed.

"Don't be alarmed -- he shan't hurt anybody, Dora." Dick raised
his voice.  "Hi there, Baxter!  What are you doing here?"

At first there was no reply, and the boy in the rowboat kept on
pulling.  But as Dick repeated his call, the rower threw up his
oars.

"You mind your own business," he growled.  "Guess I can row on the
lake if I want to."

"It is Baxter, sure enough!" ejaculated Tom.

"The rascal!  We ought to recapture him."

"That's the talk," added Sam.  "I wish my wrist wasn't so sore --
I'd go after him."

"There's a boat below here," said Dick.

"Let's put out in that."

"He may -- may shoot at you," faltered Dora.  "You know how wicked
he can be at times."

"Indeed I do know," answered Dick.  "But he ought to be handed
over to the authorities.  It is a crime to let him go free."

"Hi, Baxter.  Come over here; we want to talk to you!" yelled Tom.

"Not much!" growled the former bully of Putnam Hall.

"You had better come," said Sam.  "If you don't come we'll bring
you."

"Hush, Sam, or you'll make a mess of things!" cried Dick softly,
but the warning came too late.

"Will you bring me back?" roared the bully.  "Just try it on and
see how I'll fix you."

"Come on for the boat," said Tom.  "We'll show him he can't scare
us."

He started off and Dick came after him.  Sam was also about to
follow, when his elder brother stopped him.

"You can't do much with that sore wrist, Sam," he said.  "Better
stay with the girls until we come back.  You can watch events from
the shore, and run for assistance, if it's necessary."

Sam demurred at first, but soon saw the wisdom of  Dick's
reasoning and consented to remain behind.

By this time Tom had shoved out the rowboat Dick had mentioned --
a neat craft belonging to a farmer living near.  A pair of oars
lay in a locker on the lake bank; and, securing these, Tom leaped
on board of the craft, and soon Dick came after.

Dan Baxter had watched their movement with interest, which
speedily gave way to arm when he saw the other boat come out, and
beheld Dick and Tom each take up an oar and begin to pull for all
they could.

"I was a clam to come up here, when there  is no real need for
it," he muttered.  "Two to one, eh?  Well, I reckon I can put up a
pretty stiff fight if it comes to the worst." Then he caught up
his oars once more, and began to row down Cayuga Lake with all
possible speed.





CHAPTER IV

THE CHASE ON THE LAKE

"He means to give us as much of a chase as possible," remarked
Tom, as he glanced over his shoulder.  "If I remember rightly,
Baxter was always a pretty fair oarsman."

"Yes, that was the one thing he could do well," returned Dick.
"But we ought to be able to catch him, Tom."

"We could if we had two pairs of oars.  One pair can do just about
so much and no more."

"Nonsense!  Now, both together, and put all your muscle into it,"
and Dick set a stiff stroke that his brother followed with
difficulty.

Baxter had been rowing down the lake, but as soon as he saw that
he was being pursued he changed his course for the east shore.  He
was settled to his work, and for several minutes it was hard to
tell whether he was holding his own or losing.

"Hurrah! we are catching up!" cried Dick, after pulling for five
minutes.  "Keep at it, Tom, and we'll have him before he is half
over."

"Gosh, but it's hot work!" came with a pant from Tom Rover.  "He
must be almost exhausted to row like that."

"He knows what he has at stake.  He sees the prison cell staring
him in the face again.  You'd do your best, too, if you were in
his place."

"I'm doing my best now, Dick.  On we go!" and Tom renewed his
exertions.  Dick set a faster stroke than ever, having caught his
second wind, and the rowboat flew over the calm surface of the
lake like a thing of life.

"Keep off!"  The cry came from Baxter, while he was still a
hundred yards from the eastern shore.  "Keep off, or it will be
the worse for you!"

"We are not afraid of you, Baxter, and you ought to know it by
this time," answered Dick.  "You may as well give in now as later
on."

"Give in!  You must be crazy!"

"We are two to one, and you know what we have been able to do in
the past."

"Humph!  I don't intend to go to jug again, and that is all there
is to it."

"Maybe you can't help yourself."

"We'll see about that.  Are you - going to keep off or not?

"Don't ask foolish a question."

"You won't keep off?"

"No."

"If you don't I -- I'll shoot you."

As Dan Baxter spoke he stopped rowing and brought from a hip
pocket a highly polished nickel-plated revolver.

"Do you see this?" he demanded, as he pointed the weapon toward
the Rover boys.

Both Dick and Tom were taken aback at the sight of the weapon.
But they had seen such arms before, and had faced them,
consequently they were not as greatly alarmed as they right
otherwise have been.  They knew, too, that Dan Baxter was a
notoriously bad shot.

"Put that up, Baxter," said Dick calmly.  "It may only get you
into deeper trouble."

"I don't care!" said the bully recklessly.  "I'm not going back to
jail and that is all there, is to it!"

"You won't dare to shoot at us, and you know it," put in Tom, as
the two boats drifted closer together.

"I will, and don't you fool yourself on it."

"Drop those oars or I'll fire, as sure as my name is Dan Baxter,"
and the revolver, which had been partly lowered, was raised a
second time.

It must be confessed that Dick and Tom were much disconcerted.
The two rowboats were now less than fifty feet apart, and any kind
of a shot from the weapon was likely to prove more or less
dangerous.  Baxter's eyes gleamed with the hatred of an angry
snake ready to strike.

"You think you are smart, you Rover boys," said the bully, after
an awkward pause all around.  "You think you did a big thing in
rescuing Dom Stanhope and in putting me and my father and Buddy
Girk in prison.  But let me tell you that this game hasn't come to
an end yet, and some day we intend to square accounts."

"There is no use in wasting breath in this fashion, Baxter,"
returned Dick, as calmly as he could.  "We are two to one, and the
best thing to do is for you to submit.  If you fire on us, we may
do a little shooting on our own account."

"Humph!  Do you imagine you can scare me in that fashion?  You
haven't any pistol, and I know it.  If you had you would have
drawn the weapon long ago."

At this Dick bit his lip.  "Don't be too sure," he said steadily,
as the boats drifted still closer together.  "The minute I heard
you had escaped from jail I went and bought a pistol in
Cedarville."  This was the strict truth, but Dick did not add that
the weapon lay at that moment safe in the bottom of his trunk at
the Hall.

"Got afraid I'd come around, eh?"

"I knew there was nothing like becoming prepared.  Now will you -"

Dick did not have time to finish, for, lowering the front end of
the pistol, Dan Baxter pulled the trigger twice and two reports
rang out in quick succession.  One bullet buried itself in the
seat beside Tom, while the second plowed its way through the
bottom, near the stern.

"You villain!" cried Dick, and in his excitement hurled his oar at
Dan Baxter, hitting the fellow across the fact with such force
that the bully's nose began to bleed.  The shock made Baxter lose
his hold on the pistol and it went over the side of his craft and
sank immediately to the bottom of the lake.

"My, but that was a close shave!" muttered Tom, as he gazed at the
hole through the seat.  "A little closer and I would have got it
in the stomach."

A yell now came from Sam, and a shriek from the girls, all of whom
had heard the pistol shots.  They were too far away to see the
result of the shooting and feared both Tom and Dick had been
killed or wounded.

As quickly as he could recover from the blow of the oar, Dan
Baxter picked up his own blades, and without paying attention to
the blood which was flowing from his nose, began once again to
pull for the shore.

"Come on, his pistol is gone!" shouted Dick, and then his face
fell. "Confound it, I've thrown away my oar!  There it goes!"  And
he pointed some distance to their left.

"That isn't the worst of it!" groaned Tom. "Look at that hole in
the bottom, made by that pistol shot.  The water is coming in just
as fast as it can."

There was small need to call attention to it, for the water in the
bottom of the boat was already an inch deep.  Dick started in
perplexity, then, struck by a sudden idea, drew a lead pencil from
his pocket and rammed it into the opening.  It fitted very well,
and the water ceased, to come in.

"Now we'll have to bail out and pick up that other oar," said Tom.
"It was foolish to throw it away, Dick."

"I don't know about that.  It deprived Baxter of his pistol.
Paddle over, and I'll pick it up."  Tom did so, and the blade was
speedily recovered.

But Dan Baxter had made good use of the precious moments lost by
the Rover boys, and hardly were the latter into shape for rowing
once more than they saw the bully beach his craft and leap out on
the shore.  "Good-by to you!" he cried mockingly.  "I told you
that you couldn't catch me.  The next time we meet I'll make you
sorry that you ever followed me," and he started to run off with
all possible speed.

Tom and Dick were too chagrined to answer him, and pulled forward
to the shore in silence.  They ran the craft into some bushes and
tied up, and then started after Baxter, who was now making for the
woods south of the village of Nelson.

When the highway skirting this portion of Cayuga Lake was gained
Dan Baxter was a good five hundred feet ahead of them.  A turn in
the road soon hid him from view.  Gaining the bend they discovered
that he had disappeared from view altogether.

"He has taken to the woods," sighed Dick.

"If that is so we may as well give the hunt up," answered his
brother.  "It would be worse than looking for a pin in a haystack,
for we wouldn't know what direction he had taken."

"I wish I had a bloodhound with which to trail him.  He ought to
be run down, Tom."

"Well, let us notify some of the people living near and see what
can be done."

They ran on to the spot where they supposed Baxter had left the
highway.  On both sides were dense thickets of cedars with heavy
underbrush.  All in all, the locality formed an ideal hiding
place.

Night was coming on by the time they gained the nearest farmhouse.
Here they found three men, to whom they explained the situation.
All of the men smiled grimly.

"If he went into the woods it would be a hard job to trail him,"
was the comment from Farmer Mason.  "If he ain't careful he'll
lose himself so completely he'll never git out, b'gosh!"

"Well, I don't know but what that would suit me," responded Tom
dryly.

The search was begun, and several others joined in.  It lasted
until night was fairly upon the party and was then given up in
disgust.

"It's no use," said Dick.  "He has slipped us!"

"But we ought to notify the authorities," said Tom.  "They will
probably put a detective on his track."

"Yes; but a detective can't do any more than we can, up in this
wild locality."

"He won't remain in the woods forever.  He'll starve to death."

"Well, we can send the police a telegram from Cedarville."

This was done, and the Rover boys returned to Putnam Hall by way
of the side road leaving past the homes of the Stanhopes and the
Lanings.  They found Sam and the girls very anxious concerning
their welfare.

"We were afraid you had been shot," said Dora.  "I am thankful
that you escaped."

"So am I," put in Sam.  "But it's too bad that Baxter got away.  I
wonder where he will turn up next."

They all wondered, but could not even venture an answer.  Soon the
boys left the girls and hurried to the academy, where their story,
had to be told over again.  Captain Putnam looked exceedingly
grave over the narrative.

"You must be careful in the future, lads," he said.  "Remember,
you are in my care here.  I do not know what your uncle would say
if anything should happen to you."

"We will be on our guard in the future," answered Dick.  "But I am
awfully sorry we didn't catch him."

"So am I.  But perhaps the authorities will have better luck," and
there the talk came to an end, and the boys retired for the night.





CHAPTER V

FUN AND AN EXPLOSION

Several days slipped by, and the boys waited anxiously for some
news from the authorities.  But none came, and they rightfully
surmised that, for the time being, Dan Baxter had made good his
escape.

On account of the disastrous ending to the kite-flying match, many
had supposed that the feast in Dormitory No. 6 was not to come
off, but Sam, Tom, Frank, and several others got their heads
together and prepared for a "layout" for the following Wednesday,
which would be Dick's birthday.

"We'll give him a surprise," said Sam, and so it was agreed.
Passing around the hat netted exactly three dollars and a quarter,
and Tom, Sam, and Fred Garrison were delegated to purchase the
candies, cake, and ice cream which were to constitute the spread.

"We'll do the thing up brown," said Sam.

"We must strike higher than that feast we had, last year."

"Right you are!" came from Tom, "Oh dear, do you remember how we
served Mumps that night!" and he set up a roar over the
remembrance of the scene.

Hans Mueller had become one of the occupants of the dormitory, and
he was as much, interested as anybody in the preparations for the
spread. "Dot vill pe fine!" he said.  "I like to have von feast
twist a veek, ha I ha!

"He's a jolly dog," said Tom to Frank.

"But, say, I've been thinking of having some fun with him before
this spread comes off."

"Let me in on the ground floor," pleaded Frank, who always wok a
great interest in Tom's jokes.

"I will, on one condition, Frank."

"And what is that?"

"That you loan me that masquerade suit you have in your trunk.
The one you used at that New Year's dance at home."

"You mean that Indian rig?"

"Yes."

"Hullo, I reckon I smell a mouse!" laughed the senator's son.  "I
heard you giving Hans that yarn about us training to fight
Indians."'

"Did you indeed."

"I did indeed; and I heard Hans say that he wanted nothing to do
with the Indians."

"Well, he's going to have something to do with at least one
Indian," grinned Tom.  "What do you say I get the suit?"

"Yes; if you'll fix it so that I can see the sport."

"All of the crowd can see it, if they don't leak about it,"
returned the fun-loving Rover.

Tom soon had the masquerade suit in his possession and also, some
face paints which Frank had saved from the New Year's dance mentioned.
Shortly afterward Tom joined the crowd in the gymnasium, where
Hans Mueller was trying to do some vaulting over the bars.

"I dink I could chump dem sticks of I vos taller," the German
youth was saying.

"Or the sticks were lower," replied Tom, with a wink at the crowd.
"That's right, Hans, you had better learn how to jump now, and to
run, too."

"The Indians have come," put in Frank.

"Indians?" repeated Hans Mueller.  "Vere is da?"

"They say a band of them are in the woods around here," answered
Tom.  "If you go out you want to be careful or they may scalp
you."

"Cracious, Rofer, ton't say dot!" cried Mueller in alarm.  "Vot is
dem Indians doing here annavay?"

"They came in East to hunt up some buffalo that got away.  They
had something like half a million in a corral, and about two
thousand got away from them."

This preposterous announcement was taken by Hans Mueller in all
seriousness, and he asked Tom all sorts of ridiculous questions
about the savage red men, whom he supposed as wild and wily as
those of generations ago.

"No, I ton't vonts to meet any of dem," he said at last.  "Da vos
von pad lot alretty!"

"That's right, Hans, you give them a wide berth," said Tom, and
walked away.

Later on Tom persuaded Dick to ask Hans if he would not walk down
to Cedarville for him, to buy him a baseball.  Eager to be
accommodating, the German youth received the necessary permission
to leave the academy acres and hurried off at the full speed of
his sturdy legs.

"Now for some fun!" cried Tom, and ran off for the Indian suit and
the face paints.  These he took down to the bam and set to work to
transform himself into a wild-looking red man.

"You're a lively one!" grinned Peleg Snuggers, who stood watching
him.  "We never had such a lad as you before Master Thomas."

"Thanks, Peleg, and perhaps you'll never have one like me again --
and then you'll be dreadfully sorry."

"Or glad," murmured Peleg.

"Mum's the word, old man."

"Oh, I never say nuthin, Master Thomas; you know that," returned
the man-of-all-work.

A number of the other pupils had been let into the secret, and,
led by Dick, they ran off to the woods lining the Cedarville road.
Tom came after them, skulking along that nobody driving by might
catch sight of him.

Not quite an hour later Hans Mueller was heard coming back.  The
German boy was humming to himself and at the same time throwing up
the new ball he had purchased for Dick.

"Burra!  Burra!" thundered out Tom, as he leaped from behind a big
tree.  "Dutcha boy heap big scalp-me take um!  Burra!"  And he
danced up to Hans, flourishing a big tin knife as he did so.  The
masquerade was a perfect one, and he looked like an Indian who had
just stepped forth from some Wild West show.

"Ach du!" screamed Hans, as he stopped short and grew white.
"It's dem Indians come to take mine hair!  Oh, please, Mister
Indian, ton't vos touch me!"

"Dutcha boy heap nice hair," continued Tom, drawing nearer.  "Maka
nice door-mat for Big Wolf.  Burra!"

"No, no; ton't vos touch mine hair-it vos all der hair I vos got!"
howled Hans.  "Please, Mister Indian mans, let me go!"  And then
he started to back away.

"White bay stop or Big Wolf shoot!" bellowed Tom, drawing forth a
rusty pistol he had picked up in the barn.  This rusty pistol had
done lots of duty at fun-making before.

"No, no; ton't shoot!" screamed Hans.  Then he fell on his knees
in despair.

Tom could scarcely keep from laughing at the sight, and a snicker
or two could be heard coming from where Frank, Dick, and the
others were concealed behind the bushes.  But the German youth was
too terrorized to notice anything but that awful red man before
him, with his hideous war-paint of blue and yellow.

"Dutcha boy dance for Big Wolf," went on Tom.  "Dance!  Dance or
Big Wolf shoot!"  And the fun-loving Rover set the pace in a mad,
caper that would have done credit to a Zulu.

"I can't vos dance!" faltered Hans, and then, thinking he might
appease the wrath of his unexpected enemy he began to caper about
in a clumsy fashion which was comical in the extreme.

"Hoopla! keep it up!" roared Tom.  "Dutcha boy take the cake for
flingin' hees boots.  Faster, faster, or Big Wolf shoot, bang!"

"No, no; I vos dance so hard as I can!" panted Hans, and renewed
his exertions until Tom could keep in no longer, and set up such a
laugh as had not been heard around the Hall for many a day.  It is
needless to add that the other boys joined in, still, however,
keeping out of sight.

"You're a corker, Hans!" cried Tom in his natural voice.  "You
ought to join the buck-and-wing dancers in a minstrel company."

"Vot -- vot -- ?" began the German boy in bewilderment.  "Ain't
you no Indian?"

"To be sure I am; I'm Big Wolf, the Head Dancing Master of the
Tuscaroras, Hans, dear boy.  Don't you think I'm a stunner."

"You vos Tom Rofer, made up," growled Hans in sudden and deep
disgust.  "Vot for you vos blay me such a drick as dis, hey?"

"Just to wake you up, Hans."

"I ton't vos been asleep, not me!"

"I mean to stir up your ideas -- put something new into your
head."

"Mine head vos all right, Tom."

"To be sure it is."

"Den vot you say you vos put somedings new py him, hey?"

"I mean to make you sharper-put you on your mettle."

"I ton't understand," stammered the German youth hopelessly.

"That's so, and you won't in a thousand years, Hans.  But you are
the right sort, any way."

"I dink  I blay me Indian mineselluf some tay," mused Hans.  "Dot
vos lots of fun to make me tance, vosn't it?  Vere you got dot
bistol?"

"Down in the barn.  Look out, or it may go off," added Tom, as he
held out the weapons, thinking Hans would draw back in alarm.

Instead, however, the German boy took the pistol and of a sudden
pointed it at Tom's head.

"Now you tance!" he cried abruptly.  "Tance, or I vos shoot you
full of holes!"

"Hi, Tom; he's got the best of you now!" cried Frank from behind
the bushes.

"You can't make me dance, Hans," returned Tom.  "That old rusty
iron hasn't been loaded for years."

 "It ton't vos no goot?  No.  Maybe you vos only fool me."

"Pull the trigger and see," answered Tom coolly.

He had scarcely spoken when Hans Mueller did as advised.  A
tremendous report followed, and when the smoke cleared away the
boys in the bushes were horrified to see that the rusty pistol had
been shattered into a thousand pieces and that both Tom and Hans
lay on their backs in the road, their faces covered with blood.





CHAPTER VI

THE STRANGE FIGURE IN THE HALLWAY

At the fearful outcome of the joke Tom had been perpetrating the
boys concealed in the bushes were almost struck dumb, and for
several seconds nobody could speak or move.

"Oh, Heavens, Tom is killed!" burst out Dick, who was the first to
find his voice.  He ran forth as speedily as possible, and one
after another the other cadets followed.

Tom lay as quiet as death, with his eyes closed and the blood
trickling over his temple and left cheek.  Quickly Dick knelt by
his side and felt of his heart.

"Tom, Tom, speak to me!  Tell me you are not seriously hurt!" he
faltered.

But no answer came back, and Sam raced off to get some water,
which he brought in a tin can he had discovered lying handy.  The
water was dashed over Toni's face, and presently he gave a little
gasp.

"Oh my! what struck me?" he murmured, and then tried to sit up,
but for the minute the effort was a failure.

"The pistol exploded," said Frank.  "A piece must have hit you on
the head," and he pointed at a nasty scalp wound from which the
flow of blood emanated.

As well as it could be done, Frank and Dick bound up Tom's head
with a handkerchief, and presently the fun-loving lad declared
himself about as well as ever, "Only a bit light-headed," as he
added.

In the meantime the others had given their attention to Hans, who
had been struck both in the scalp and in the shoulder.  It was a
good quarter of an hour before the German youth came around, and
then he felt so weak that the boys had to assist him back to the
academy.

"Honestly, I thought the pistol was empty," said Tom, on the
return to the Hall.  "Why, I think I've pulled that trigger a
dozen times."

"Don't mention it," said Frank with a shiver.  "Why, only last
week I pointed the thing at Peleg Snuggers and played at firing
it.  Supposing it had gone off and killed somebody?"

And he shivered again.

"Dot vos almost as pad as von Indian's schalping," put in Hans
faintly.  "I dink, Tom, you vos play no more such dricks, hey?"

"No, I've had enough," replied Tom very soberly.  "If you had been
killed or seriously hurt I would never have forgiven myself."  And
it may be added here that for some time after this event
fun-making and Tom were strangers to each other.

At the proper time the feast which had been planned came off, and
proved to be an event not readily forgotten.  It was no easy
matter to obtain the good things required, and the boys ran the
risk of being discovered by George Strong and punished; but by
midnight everything was ready, and soon eating was "in full
blast," to use Sam's way of expressing it.

A few of the boys from the other dormitories had been invited, and
the boys took turns in standing out in the hall on guard.

"You see," explained Tom, "Mr. Strong may come in, and I won't be
able to play nightmare again, as I did last year."

"Say, but that was a prime joke," laughed Frank.

"And Mumps!" cried Larry.  "I'll never forget the orange flavored
with kerosene," and a general laugh followed.

Somebody had spoken of inviting Jim Caven to the feast, but no one
cared particularly for the fellow, and he had been left out.