The Rover Boys Megapack Page 17

  “Oh, so am I,” answered Tom Rover. “But an outing on the Hudson is just the best of a vacation. By the way, I wonder if all of our old friends will be back?”

  “Most of them will be.”

  “And our enemies?”

  “Dan Baxter won’t come back,” answered Dick seriously. “He ran away to Chicago with two hundred dollars belonging to his father, and I guess that’s the end of him—so far as Putnam Hall and we are concerned. What a bully he was!”

  “I feel it in my bones, Dick, that we’ll meet Dan Baxter again,” came from Sam Rover.

  “Don’t you remember that in that note he left when he ran away he said he would take pains to get square with us some day?”

  “He was a big blower, Sam,” put in Tom. “I am not afraid of him. An his chum, Mumps, was a regular sneak coward. I hope Putnam Hall will be free from all such fellows during the next term. But we—Hold hard, Sam—there is another yacht bearing down upon us!”

  Tom Rover leaped to his feet and so did Dick. Tom was right; another craft, considerably larger than their own, was headed directly for them.

  “Throw her over to starboard!” sang out, Dick Rover. “And be quick about it—or we’ll have a smash-up sure!” And he leaped to his brother’s, assistance, while Tom did the same.

  The Rover brothers were three in number—Dick, the oldest and most studious; Tom next, is full of fun as an egg is full of meat, and Sam the youngest.

  In a former volume of this series, entitled, “The Rover Boys at School,” I related how the three youths had been sent by their uncle, Randolph Rover, to Putnam Hall, a military boarding school, situated upon Cayuga Lake, in New York State.

  Whether the three boys were orphans or not was a question that could not be answered. Their father, Anderson Rover, had been a geological expert and rich mine owner, and, returning from the West, had set sail for Africa, with the intention of exploring the central region of that country in the hope of locating some valuable gold mines. The boys and their uncle knew that he had journeyed from the western coast toward the interior with a number of natives, and that was all they did know, although they had made numerous inquiries, and hoped for the best. The lads’ mother was dead; and all these things had happened years before they had been sent to boarding school.

  Randolph Rover was an eccentric but kind hearted man, given over entirely to scientific farming, of which, so far, sad to relate, he had made a rather costly failure. He spent all of his time over his agricultural books and in the fields, and was glad enough to get the boys off his hands by sending them to the military school.

  When vacation came he wondered what he should do with them during the summer, but the problem was solved by the boys, who hated to think of remaining on the farm, and who proposed a trip up and down the Hudson River and through Long Island Sound, providing their guardian would furnish the boat and bear the expense of the outing. The outcome was the chartering of the yacht Spray, and all of the boys took lessons in sailing from an old tar who knew exactly how such a craft should be handled.

  At Putnam Hall the boys had made a number of friends, and also several enemies, and had had several surprising adventures, as my old readers already know. Who their friends and their enemies were, and what further adventures were in store for the three brothers, I will leave for the pages following to reveal. At present let us turn our attention to the boat which seemed on the point of running down the Spray.

  Like their own craft, the other boat carried but a single mast. But the stick was at least ten feet longer than the mast of the Spray, and the boat was correspondingly larger in every respect. As she came nearer the Rover boys saw that she contained two occupants, a boy and a somewhat elderly man.

  “Sheer off there!” cried Dick, at the top of his lungs. “Do you want to run us down?”

  “Get out of the way yourself!” came back the answer from the boy in the other boat.

  “We can’t get out—we are almost on the rocks now!” yelled Tom. Then he gave a start of surprise. “Why, it’s Mumps!”

  “By jinks, it is John Fenwick!” muttered Dick. “I remember now that he came from the Hudson River and that his folks owned a boat.” He raised his voice, “Are you going to sheer off or not?”

  By this time the two boats were nearly bowsprit to bowsprit, and Sam Rover’s heart almost stopped beating. But now Mumps spoke to the man with him, and his craft, called the Falcon, sheered to port, scraping the Spray’s side as she did so.

  “Mumps, what do you mean by such work?” demanded Dick, when the immediate danger was past.

  “Ha! ha! I thought I would give you a scare,” laughed the former sneak of Putnam Hall.

  “You needn’t be afraid but what I and old Bill Goss here know how to keep the Falcon out of danger.”

  “It was foolishness to run so close,” said Tom.

  “Don’t you talk to me, Tom Rover. I’ve had enough of you, mind that.”

  “And I want you to mind and keep off next time, Mumps. If you don’t—”

  “What will you do?”

  “I’ll be tempted to come aboard the Falcon and give you a thrashing.”

  “You’ll never set foot on my boat, and I’m not afraid of you,” roared Mumps. “You think you got the best of me at Putnam Hall, but you didn’t, and I want you to know it.”

  “How is your friend, Dan Baxter?” cried Sam. “Has he landed in jail yet?”

  “Never mind Dan Baxter,” growled Mumps, growing red in the face; and then the two yachts moved so far apart that further talk was impossible.

  “Well, I didn’t expect to meet him,” muttered Dick, after the three brothers had cooled down a bit. “He must have known we were in this boat.”

  “I saw his craft last night, down near Catskill,” said Tom. “I’ll wager he has been following us up.”

  “He wouldn’t do that unless he had some reason for it.”

  “I believe he would sink us if he could,” put in Sam. “To my mind he is almost as bad as Baxter.”

  “Hardly, Sam; Dan Baxter is a thief and the son of a thief,” came from Tom. “By the way, I wonder if Arnold Baxter is still in the hospital at Ithaca.”

  “More than likely, since he was so badly hurt by that fall from the train. If we—Look, Mumps has turned around and is following us!”

  Sam pointed to the Falcon, and his brothers saw that he was right. Soon the larger craft was again within hailing distance.

  “Hi, Mumps, what are you following us for?” demanded, Dick, as he stepped up on the stern seat.

  “Didn’t know I was following you,” was the sour rejoinder. “I have a right to sail where I please.”

  “If you have any game in mind I advise you not to try it on.”

  “What game would I have, Dick Rover?”

  “Some game to get yourself into trouble.”

  “I know my own business.”

  “Alright, you can go about your business. But don’t try to step on our toes—or you’ll get the worst of it.”

  “So you’re going to play the part of a bully?”

  “No; I’m only giving you fair warning. If you let us alone we’ll let you alone.”

  “You have been watching the movements of the Falcon since day before yesterday,” went on Mumps, slowly and distinctly, as though he expected his words to have a great effect.

  “Watching your boat—” began Dick and Tom simultaneously.

  “Yes, watching my boat—and I don’t like it,” answered Fenwick, and his face grew dark.

  “Why should we watch your boat?” demanded Sam.

  “Never mind why. You’ve been watching her, and that’s enough.”

  “And why should we put ourselves out to that extent—when we are merely out for pleasure,” said Dick. “There is no fun in watching a fellow like you, I’m sure.”

>   “John is right; ye have been a-watchin’ this boat,” growled the old sailor named Bill Goss, who, it may be as well to state here, was thoroughly under his younger master’s thumb for reasons best known to himself. “If I had my way I’d wollop the lot on ye!” And he shook his fist at the occupants of the Spray.

  “You keep your oar out!” cried Dick sternly. “You are entirely mistaken in your suspicions. We are not spying on you or anybody, and if you—”

  Dick was permitted to go no further. While Bill Goss was speaking the Spray had been caught by a sudden puff of wind and sent over to starboard. Now the Falcon came on swiftly, and in an instant her sharp bow crashed into the Rover boy’s boat. The shock of the collision caused the Spray to shiver from stem to stern, and then, with a jagged hole in her side, she began to slowly sink.

  CHAPTER II

  THE ENCOUNTER ON THE RIVER

  For the instant after the collision occurred none of the Rover boys uttered a word. Tom and Sam stared in amazement at Mumps, while Dick gazed helplessly at the damage done.

  “Pull her away, quick, Bill!” cried Mumps in a low voice to the old sailor, who at once sprang forward and shoved the two yachts apart with a long boathook. Then the rudder of the Falcon was put hard a port, and she swung, away for a distance of half a dozen yards.

  “We are sinking!” gasped Tom, who was the first of the three brothers to find his voice.

  “Mumps, you rascal, what do you mean by this work?” demanded Dick. And then, without waiting for an answer, he turned to Sam. “Steer for the shore and beach her—if you can.”

  “I don’t believe we can make it, Dick. But we can try.”

  “We’ll have you locked up for this, Mumps,” shouted Tom.

  “I couldn’t help it—it was an accident,” returned the former sneak of Putnam Hall glibly. “You should have kept out of the way.”

  “We’ll see about that later on.”

  “Maybe you want us to help you.”

  “We shan’t ask you for the favor,” burst out Sam. “I’d rather drown first.” But Sam did not exactly mean this. He and his brothers could all swim, and he felt certain that they were in no immediate danger of their lives.

  “You had better not ask any favors. I wouldn’t pick you up for a barrel of money.”

  “I think we’ll have to settle this in court, Mumps,” said Dick, as quietly as he could.

  “You can’t prove I ran you down.”

  “Don’t you dare to have us hauled up,” put in Bill Goss. “It was an accident, jest as John says. I reckon as how it will teach ye a lesson not to follow us ag’in.”

  By this time the two yachts were once more so far apart that talking from one to the other became difficult. Besides this, the Rover boys felt that they must turn their whole attention to the Spray, so no more was said.

  The yacht had been struck just at the water line and the hole made in her side was all of six inches in diameter. Through this the water was pouring into the hold at a lively rate.

  “We’re going down as sure as guns,” groaned Tom. “Steer her right for the shore, Sam.” This was done, and just as the Spray began to settle they ran upon a muddy and rocky flat about thirty feet from the river bank proper.

  “There, we can’t go down now,” said Dick, with something of a sigh of relief. “Let us lower the mainsail and jib before the wind sends us over on our beam ends.”

  The others understood the value of the advice, and soon the mainsail of the yacht came down with a bang, and the jib followed. The Spray seemed inclined to list to port, but stopped settling when her deck line touched the surface of the river.

  “That settles yachting for the present,” said Dick in deep disgust.

  “And the worst of it is, we haven’t even a small boat to go ashore in,” added Sam. “What’s to do?”

  “There is a rowboat putting out from the shore now,” cried Tom. “Hullo, there!” he shouted, and waved his hand.

  The shout was returned, and the rowboat was headed, in their direction. As it came closer they saw that its occupant was a middle-aged man of pleasant appearance.

  “So you had a smash-up, eh?” shouted the man, as soon as he came near. “Anybody hurt?”

  “Our boat is hurt,” answered Tom dryly.

  “Much of a hole?”

  “Big enough to put us on the bottom.”

  “So I see. Want me to take you ashore?”

  “Yes,” put in Dick, “if you will be kind enough to do it.”

  “Certainly; always willing to aid anybody in distress. That other craft run you down in short order, didn’t she?”

  “Did you see it?” burst out Sam eagerly.

  “To be sure I did.”

  “Then you know it was her fault.”

  “I do. She had no right to follow you up as she did.”

  “I’m glad you saw the mix-up, Mr…”

  “Martin Harris is my name. I’m an old boatman around here—keep boats to hire, and the like. And who is this I’m to take ashore?”

  “My name is Sam Rover. These are my two brothers, Dick and Tom.”

  “Do you know who it was ran into you?”

  “It was the Falcon, a yacht owned by a Mr. Fenwick. His son and a man he called Bill Goss were aboard.”

  At this Martin Harris drew down his mouth. “A bad set, those. I know ‘em well.”

  “And we know, Fenwick, too,” put in Dick, “He’s a regular sneak.”

  “That’s right—takes after his father, who did his best to defraud me in a boat deal. And that Bill Goss is a sneak, too, and worse,” and Martin Harris shook his head decidedly.

  “Well, we can’t talk about those people now,” said Dick. “We’re in a mess and must get out of it the best way we can. As you are an old boatman, what would you advise us to do?”

  “Come ashore with me and then get Dan Haskett to take your boat in charge and fix her up. He can stop that leak somehow and pump her out and have her all right inside of twenty-four hours.”

  “Where can we find this Haskett?”

  “Come into my boat and I’ll take you to him.”

  The rowboat was now close at hand, and one after another the Rover boys stowed themselves away in the craft. Then Martin Harris took up the oars and started for the river bank. He turned down the stream a bit and landed them at an old dock over which hung the sign: “Daniel Haskett, Boat Builder and Repairer jobs Promptly Attended to—Charges Small.”

  Dan Haskett proved to be an elderly man, who was somewhat deaf, and it took the boys some time to make him understand the situation.

  “We’ve had a smash-up,” began Dick.

  “Cash up?” said the deaf man. “Cash up for what?”

  “We’ve had a smash-up!” repeated the boy in a louder tone. “We want our boat mended.”

  “What’s ended?” asked the boat builder. “Your boat?”

  “Almost ended,” roared Tom. “We—want—you—to—fix—up—our—boat,” he yelled.

  “Oh, all right. Where is she?”

  Dick pointed with his finger, and at once the boat builder understood. “There’s a hole in her side,” bawled the boy. “We want it patched up.”

  “All right; I can do that.”

  “Can we have her by tomorrow?”

  “How’s that?” And Dan Haskett placed his hand to his ear.

  “Can—we—have—her—by—tomorrow?” yelled Dick.

  “I guess so. I’ll have to see how badly she is damaged first.”

  Haskett got out a small boat of his own and, taking Dick with him, rowed over to the wreck. He pronounced the injury small and said the boys could have their boat by noon the next day. The charges would be twelve or fifteen dollars.

  “We’ll be getting off cheaper than I thought,” said Tom, on Dick’s retu
rn. “Ought to come out of Mumps’ pocket.”

  “That’s so,” added Sam. “By the way, I wonder what he meant by saying we were dogging him?”

  “I can’t say,” replied Dick. “But I’ve been thinking that he can’t be up to any good, or he wouldn’t be so suspicious.”

  “Just exactly my idea!” burst out Tom. “Do you know what I half imagine?”

  “Well?”

  “That Mumps is cruising around waiting for Dan Baxter to join him.”

  “But Baxter went to Chicago.”

  “He won’t stay there—not as long as his father is in the East. He will be back before long, if he isn’t back already.”

  “But he took that money belonging to his father.”

  “What of that? His father can’t do anything against him, for he himself is worse than his son, as we all know. Besides, his father is most likely still in the hospital.”

  “If you young gentlemen want to sail around until tomorrow noon, I can take you out in one of my boats,” remarked Martin Harris. “I’ve got a first-class yacht, the Searchlight, that I can let you have reasonably.”

  “Thanks, but I would just as lief stay on shore until our boat is mended,” answered Dick. “But I want to pay you for what you did for us,” he added.

  “Oh, that’s all right.”

  But the boys thought otherwise, and in the end gave Martin Harris two dollars, with which the boatman was highly pleased.

  “Remember, I saw that accident,” he said, on parting. “I can prove it was the Falcon’s fault.”

  “We’ll remember that,” answered Dick.

  From time to time they had watched the Falcon’s course until the yacht had disappeared down the river.

  After a short debate the brothers decided to put up at a hotel which stood not far away, on a high cliff overlooking the noble Hudson.

  “We’ve been on the water for nearly two weeks now,” said Dick, “and to sleep in a real bed will be something of a novelty.”

  As it was in the height of the summer season the hotel was crowded; but some guests were just departing, and they managed to get a fairly good room on the second floor. This had a double bed, and a cot was added, to accommodate Sam; Dick and Tom sleeping together, as usual.