Books: The Rover Boys in the Jungle
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Arthur M. Winfield >> The Rover Boys in the Jungle
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"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 1 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 feIlow, and he had been left out.
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