The Rover Boys Down East: or, The Struggle for the Stanhope Fortune

CHAPTER XI
A DAY TO REMEMBER

“Great Cicero, is it possible we have shot the cook’s pocketbook to pieces!” murmured Dick, who had come up in time to hear the conversation.

“Shoot it! Did you shoot at my pocketbook?” demanded Sarah.

“We didn’t shoot at it, Sarah,” answered Sam. “I stuffed that paper in the cannon for wadding.”

“What, with my pocketbook in it!” screamed the cook. “Oh, dear! Was ever there such boys!”

“I didn’t know there was anything in the paper. It looked all crumpled up.”

“It was the best paper I could find and I thought it would do,” groaned Sarah. “Oh, dear, what am I to do? Where is the pocketbook now?”

“Blown to kingdom come, I reckon,” murmured the youngest Rover. “But never mind, I’ll buy you a new one.”

“The pocketbook couldn’t have been a very large one,” said Tom, who had come up to learn the cause of the excitement in the kitchen.

“It wasn’t – it was quite small. My sister sent it to me from Chicago, for a birthday present.”

“What did you have in it?” asked Sam anxiously.

“I had four dollars in it in bills, and ten of those new shiny cents, and a ten-cent piece, and a sample of dress goods, and a slip of paper with a new way on it to make grape jelly, and some pills for the headache, and a motto verse, and – and I don’t know what else.”

“Well, that’s enough,” came from Tom. “No wonder the bees kicked at having all that fired at ’em.”

“I’ll give you back the money, Sarah, and get you a new pocketbook,” said Sam. “I’m awfully sorry it happened.”

“Let’s look for the pocketbook,” suggested Dick, and this was done, the boys taking good care, while on the search, to keep out of the range of the bees. All they could find in the orchard were two of the cent pieces and part of the metal clasp of the pocketbook – the rest had disappeared.

“Well, let us be thankful that we didn’t blow the cannon apart, or hit somebody with that charge,” said Dick.

Later the cannon was fired off with more care. It certainly made a loud noise, and a farmer, driving past, said he had heard it away down at Oak Run.

“A feller down there told me he guessed the quarry men were blastin’,” he said. “But I said ’twas a cannon. She kin go some, can’t she!” And he shook his head grimly as he drove on.

The boys and girls spent the morning in firing off the cannon and in shooting off some firecrackers. Mrs. Rover served an elaborate dinner, and had the dining room trimmed in red, white and blue flowers in honor of the national birthday.

“Do you remember how we spent last Fourth,” said Tom, when the meal was about over.

“Indeed I do!” cried Nellie. “Don’t you remember that big imitation cannon cracker you set off on the dining room table of the yacht and how it covered all of us with confetti.”

“Yes, and how Hans Mueller slid under the table in fright!” added Dick; and then all laughed heartily over an affair that I have already described in detail in “The Rover Boys on Treasure Isle.”

“Dear old Hans!” murmured Tom. “I’d like first rate to see him this summer.”

“Let us ask him to the farm for a week,” suggested Sam.

“All right, we will, along with Fred Garrison,” answered Dick.

During the afternoon the boys and girls played croquet and took a short ride in the touring car, and had ice-cream and cake served to them under the trees by Aleck Pop, who wore his waiter outfit for the occasion. Then they sat around until it was dark, and after supper the boys brought forth the fireworks.

“Now, be careful,” warned both their father and their uncle.

“We will be!” they cried, and set off the pieces from a field where they could not possibly do harm. The girls and the ladies, as well as the men, watched proceedings with interest.

“Oh, how grand!” cried Dora, as the rockets curved gracefully through the air.

“Beautiful!” murmured Grace.

“I could look at fireworks all night!” declared Nellie.

The fireworks came to an end with a set piece called Uncle Sam. It fizzed and flared brightly, showing the well-known face of the old man and the big hat. Then Tom commenced to pull a wire and Uncle Sam took his hat off and put it on.

“Oh, how cute!” cried Grace.

“Last act!” cried Tom, and set fire to a slow match that was near. Presently some flower pots commenced to send up a golden shower, and then, from a wire between two trees there blazed forth the words “Good Night.”

“Well, that was very nice indeed!” was Mrs. Stanhope’s comment.

“As nice an exhibition of fireworks as I ever saw,” declared Mrs. Laning.

“Just what I say!” cried Mrs. Rover. “The boys certainly know how to get up a show!”

After the fireworks came darkness, but neither the boys nor the girls seemed to mind this. They paired off, and took walks around the house and down the roadway. Perhaps a good many silly things were said, but, if so, there was no harm in them. The only ones who were really serious were Dick and Dora, and seeing this Tom nudged Nellie in the side.

“Looks like they were getting down to business, doesn’t it?” he observed, dryly.

“Oh, Tom, hush, they might hear you!” she whispered.

“You’ll have Dick for a cousin-in-law some day.”

“Well, I shan’t mind.”

“How about having him for a brother-in-law, Nellie?”

At this suggestion Nellie’s face grew crimson.

“Tom Rover, you’re the limit!”

“Well, how about it?” he persisted.

“You mean if Sam should marry Grace?” she asked archly.

“Not much – although that may happen too. I mean if you should condescend to marry such a harum-scarum chap like me.”

“Oh, Tom!” And now Nellie hid her face.

“Maybe you don’t like me, Nellie.”

“Why, Tom!”

“You know how much I like you. It’s been that way ever since we met on the Cedarville steamer. I know I’m pretty young to talk this way, but – ”

“You’ll get older, eh?”

“Yes, and I don’t want any other fellow to come around – when I’m away.”

“How about some other girl coming around when I’m away?”

“There can’t be any other girl, Nellie.”

“Are you sure?” And now Nellie looked quite in earnest.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Well then – ” her voice sank very low. “There can’t be any other fellow! There!”

“Nellie!” he cried. Then he would have caught her in his arms, but she held him back.

“Wait, Tom. I understand, and I am very, very glad,” she said, earnestly. “But mamma – she is a little bit old-fashioned, you know. She made both of us – Grace and I – promise not to – to become engaged until we were twenty or twenty-one.”

“Oh!”

“So we’ll have to wait a little longer.”

“I see. But we understand each other, don’t we, Nellie?”

“Yes, I’m sure we do.”

“And when you are old enough – ”

“We’ll talk it over again,” she answered, and took his arm as if to walk back to the others.

“All right,” he said. Then of a sudden he turned and faced her. “And is that all?” he pleaded.

“Oh, Tom, it ought to be!” she murmured.

“But, Nellie!” he pleaded, and drew her a little closer. Then for just an instant her head went down on his shoulder and she allowed him to kiss her. Then they joined the others, both feeling as if they were walking on air.

An hour later found everybody either in the house or on the veranda. Dora sat down to the piano and the other young folks gathered around to sing one favorite song after another, while the old folks listened. They sang some of the Putnam Hall songs, and tried several that were popular at Brill and at Hope.

“I like that even better than the fireworks,” murmured Mrs. Stanhope, to Anderson Rover.

“Well, I think I do, myself, Mrs. Stanhope,” he answered. And then he drew his rocking-chair a little closer to where the widow was sitting. “It seems to me that Dick and Dora match it off pretty well,” he continued, in a lower tone.

“Yes, Mr. Rover. And Dick is a fine young man – your sons are all fine young men. I shall never forget what they have done for me and for Dora.”

“Well, they are bright lads, if I do say it myself,” answered the father, proudly. “And let me say, too, that I think Dora is a very dear girl. I shall be proud to take her for a daughter.”

“No prouder than I shall be to take Dick for a son, Mr. Rover.”

“I am glad to hear you say that – glad that the idea is agreeable all around,” returned Anderson Rover.

“I shouldn’t be surprised if, some day, Nellie and Grace married your other sons.”

“Possibly. But they are rather young yet to think of that. Dick is older, even though they go to college together. You see, he got behind a little at Putnam Hall because, when I was sick, he had to attend to a lot of business for me. But he is going ahead fast now. He came out at the head of his class.”

“So Dora told me. Oh, he will make his mark in the world, I am sure of it.”

“If he does not, it will be his own fault. I shall give him as much of an education as he desires, and when he wishes to go into business, or a profession, I shall furnish him with all the money he may need. I am going to do that for all of the boys – that is, unless the bottom should drop out of everything and I should become poor.”

“Oh, Mr. Rover, I trust you do not anticipate anything of that sort!”

“No, at present my investments are safe. But one cannot tell what may happen. Hard times come, banks break, railroads default on their bonds, and a man is knocked out before he knows it. But I don’t look for those things to happen.”

“Mr. Rover, before I leave I wish to ask your advice about that fortune we brought home from Treasure Isle.”

“What about it?”

“Do you think I ought to invest the money, or keep it intact and wait to see what that Tad Sobber does?”

“I should invest it, if I were you. I really can’t see how Sobber has any claim.”

“Would you be willing to invest it for me? A large part of it really belongs to Dora, you know. I am not much of a business woman, and I would be glad if you would help me in the matter.”

“Certainly I will help you to invest, if you wish it,” answered Anderson Rover.

“Can I send the money to you?”

“Yes, But wait till I send you word. I want to look over the various offerings in securities first.”

At that moment came a call from the parlor. The young folks wanted the old folks to come in and join in the singing, and they complied. As they left the piazza a form that had been hiding behind some bushes nearby slunk away. The form was that of Tad Sobber.

“Thought I’d hear something if I came here,” muttered that individual to himself. “Going to turn the fortune over to old Rover to invest, eh? Not much! not if I can get my hands on it!”

And then Tad Sobber disappeared down the road in the darkness.

CHAPTER XII
OFF FOR CAMP

All too quickly for the girls and the boys, the visit of the folks from Cedarville to Valley Brook farm came to an end. During the week the boys took the girls on several trips in the touring car, and once all went for a picnic up the Swift river.

“You must write to us often, Dick,” said Dora, on parting. “If you go camping, tell us all the particulars.”

“I certainly will, Dora,” he answered. “And you let me know all about what you are doing. And don’t forget to urge your mother to take a trip somewhere.”

The boys had already written to their former school chums and fellow travelers, Fred Garrison and Hans Mueller, and those boys had written back that they would arrive at the farm, with an outfit for camping, on the following Saturday.

“That will just suit!” cried Sam. “We can rest up over Sunday and start for camp Monday morning.”

“I’m anxious to see what Hans will bring,” came from Tom, who was perusing a long communication from the German American youth. “He seems to have the notion that this outing is to last into cold weather, and that we are going to hunt bears and lions and a few other wild beasts.”

“Oh, maybe he is only trying to be funny,” answered Sam.

“Hans is funny without trying to be,” put in Dick. “Just the same, he is one of the best boys in the world.”

Fred Garrison and Hans Mueller had arranged to arrive at Oak Run on the same train, and the Rover boys went to meet them as they had the folks from Cedarville, in the new touring car.

“Here she comes!” cried Sam, as the distant whistle of the locomotive reached their ears. Then the train hove in sight and they saw Fred’s head sticking out of one window and Hans’ head, out of another.

“Hello, Fred! How are you, Hans!” was the cry.

“Say, is this really the station?” asked Fred, with a grin. “I’ve been watching milk depots for the last hour.”

“This is really and truly the metropolis of Oak Run!” sang out Tom. “Move lively now, or you’ll be carried further.”

The two young travelers alighted, each with two suit-cases. In addition Fred carried a fishing rod. Hans was loaded down with a fishing rod, a shotgun, a big box camera, and a bundle done up in a steamer robe.

“Hello, Hans, did you just come across the Atlantic?” questioned Dick, as the boys shook hands all around.

“Atlantic?” repeated Hans Mueller. “Not much I didn’t, Dick; I come from home, chust so straight like der railroad runs alretty.”

“You brought a few things along I see.”

“Sure I did. Vy not, of ve go camping by der voods? I got my fishing shtick, and my gun, and a planket, and a camera to took vild animals.”

“Going to take their pictures first and then slay ’em, eh?” remarked Tom.

“Dot’s it.”

“Got your license, I suppose.”

“License. Vot license?”

“To snap-shot the lions and tigers and bears, Hans. It costs two dollars and ten cents to snap-shot a bear now, and lions and tigers are a dollar and forty-five.”

“Vot?” gasped the German boy. “Do da make you bay to took pictures?”

“Why, didn’t you know that? I thought you read the new patent and copyright laws.”

“No, I got somet’ing else to do, Dom. By chiminy! Of da charge so much as dot I ton’t took no bictures, not much!”

“Well, maybe we can fix it so you won’t have to pay any license,” returned Tom, calmly. “But jump in – dinner is waiting for us at home.”

“Say, what a dandy car!” cried Fred. “I’ve been anxious to see it ever since you wrote about it.”

“Tell us all about dear old Putnam Hall,” said Sam to Hans, when the crowd were on the way to the farm, and the German boy told them all the news. Then Fred told about himself, and how he was thinking of going into business with his uncle.

“Where are you going to camp?” asked Fred, just before the farm was reached.

“We thought of going up the Swift river,” said Dick. “But maybe we’ll go over to Lake Nasco. There is a fine spot up there for camping, and we can have the use of a small sailboat.”

“That would be fine, Dick!”

“We’ll talk it over tonight – after you have had supper.”

Fred and Hans had been at the farm before and the old folks greeted them warmly. As usual, Mrs. Rover had a substantial meal prepared, and it did her good to see how both Hans and Fred relished the things provided. The German youth especially had a good appetite, and he stowed away so much it looked as if he would burst.

“Say, we’ll have to take along lots to eat,” whispered Sam to Dick. “If we don’t, Hans will clean us out in no time.”

“Well, we’ll take all we need,” answered the big brother.

After supper the five lads talked over the plans for camping out, and it was finally decided that they should journey up the Swift River to Lake Nasco. They were to remain in camp for a week or ten days, and possibly two weeks.

As my old readers know, the Swift River could not be navigated around the Falls – those awful falls where the boys had once had such a harrowing experience. But further up, the watercourse was fairly deep and smooth, and from that point the boys decided to take the small sailboat and either sail or row to the lake, two miles further on.

“We’ll drive to the boat landing with the farm wagon,” said Dick. “Jack Ness can take us, and bring the wagon back.”

On Sunday the entire family went to the village church and the visitors accompanied them. In the afternoon the boys inspected their outfits and took it easy. Fred and Hans sent letters home, stating they had arrived safely, and the Rovers sent letters to Cedarville.

“Hans, while you are in camp, don’t forget to take a picture of the Pluibuscus,” said Tom. “They don’t charge to take those.”

“Vot is dot?” asked Hans innocently.

“What, didn’t you ever see a Pluibuscus!” demanded Tom, in astonishment. “It’s a sort of a Cantonoko, only larger. They live in holes, like bears, only they have four wings, located between the sixth and the seventh legs.”

“Mine cracious, Dom, vot you talkin’ apout, ennavay?” demanded the German boy. “I ton’t know no animals vot got legs and vings alretty. Vos da very pig?”

“No, they are not pigs.”

“Vot? I tidn’t say pig. I say vos da pig – pig – pig. Ton’t you understand?”

“Sure I understand. They are not pigs.”

“Dot ain’t it at all. I say vos da pig – so pig or so pig?” And the German boy put out his hands, first close together and then wide apart.

“Oh, you mean large?”

“Yah, dot’s him.”

“Oh, they are about the size of a horse, that is, when they are young. As they grow older they get smaller, so that an old Pluibuscus is about the size of a dog. But it’s the horns you have to look out for. They are pointed like daggers and very poisonous.”

“Du meine zeit! Den I ton’t vont to meet none of dose Pluricustibusters, or vot you call dem,” and Hans shook his head, decidedly.

“If you see one I advise you to run,” put in Sam, who was enjoying the fun.

“Run? You bet my life I run!” cried Hans.

“The best way to get away is to run into the water,” went on Tom. “They hate the water. Just run into the lake and duck down and keep hidden for five or ten minutes and the Pluibuscus will walk away in disgust.”

“How vos I going to keep mine head under der vater fife oder den minutes?” questioned Hans, in perplexity.

“Oh, take a deep breath,” suggested Fred.

“I can’t do him so long as dot.”

“Poke a hole in the water to breathe through,” suggested Dick.

“Say, I guess you vos making fun!” cried Hans, suspiciously. “Maybe dare ain’t no Pluicusisduster at all. Dot’s – vot you call him? – Yah! He is a fish story!”

“Tom, you’re discovered!” screamed Sam, and then there was a roar of laughter. Hans looked a bit sheepish, but took the fun in good part.

“Put I get square, see of I ton’t!” he said, shaking his finger at Tom.

Sunday evening there was a light shower and the boys were much worried, thinking it might keep on raining. But the shower passed by morning and the sun came out bright and clear.

“And now ho! for camp!” cried Sam “Come on, the sooner we start the better.”

An early breakfast was procured, and the camping outfit, consisting of the tent, their fishing and hunting outfits, blankets and extra clothing, and a quantity of food, canned and otherwise, was loaded on the big farm wagon.

“All ready?” asked Dick.

“All ready, so far as I can see,” answered Sam.

“Vait! vait!” cried Hans, “I got to get mine ear coferings!” And he ran back into the house.

“Ear coverings?” queried Tom.

“Yes,” answered Fred, with a smile. “His mother made him a pair of coverings of mosquito netting, so that ants or other insects couldn’t crawl into his ears while he was sleeping.”

“Not such a bad idea,” said Dick. “But he needed them more in the West Indies than he’ll need them here.”

Soon Hans appeared with his ear coverings, and then the lads said good-bye. The whip cracked, and they were off on their outing. Little did they dream of how the holidays were to come to an abrupt end.

The road along the river was a rather rough one and they had to proceed slowly, for fear of jouncing off part of the load. But the lads were in the best of spirits and as they rode along they sang and cracked jokes to their hearts’ content. Tom had the last of his “doctored” cigars with him and he passed this over to Jack Ness, and all had a hearty laugh when the hired man lit up and was treated to a dose of the “worms.”

“By gum! I might have remembered about them cigars!” murmured the wagon driver. “I laffed at Ricks an’ now you got the same laff on me!”

“Never mind, Jack, you buy something worth smoking, when you go to town,” said Tom, and slyly slipped a silver quarter into the hired man’s palm.

It was noon-time when they reached the spot where they could get the sailboat. This was hired from a man living in the vicinity, and that individual’s wife supplied all hands with dinner, for the boys did not want to touch their stores until necessary. Then the sailboat was loaded and the boys got on board.

“We’ll have to row,” said Dick. “There isn’t breeze enough to do any good.”

“Well, rowing suits me,” cried Sam, and caught up an oar and Tom did the same.

“I’ll spell you after a bit,” said Fred. “It is not fair to let you do all the work.”

“So will I,” added Dick.

“Yah, and me,” nodded Hans.

“Good-bye, Jack!” cried all, and waved their hands to the hired man.

“Tell the folks not to worry – that we will be all right,” added Dick.

“Have a good time!” answered Jack Ness. Then Sam and Tom started to row, and slowly the boat moved in the direction of Lake Nasco.