the crowd that was pouring through the gateway into the waiting room of
the big station.

“Here you are――and glad to see you!” exclaimed Dick Rover, as he came
up, followed by his wife and Fred’s mother.

There was a general handshaking and many kisses, and then Dick Rover
took possession of the young folks’ checks for their trunks and led the
way to a side street where two of the family touring cars waited.

The trip to the metropolis had been without special incident save for
the fact that a number of the cadets, including Andy and Randy, were
inclined to indulge in more or less horseplay on the way. They had had
to make one change at the Junction, and on account of the heavy travel
had been compelled to come down in an ordinary day coach in place of
getting seats in a parlor car. They had managed, however, to get lunch
on the train and had had considerable fun during the meal.

“I am certainly glad to see you young folks home again,” remarked Dora
Rover, as she gazed affectionately at her son and daughter and then at
the others. “And you are more than welcome, Ruth,” she added, tapping
the visitor on the shoulder.

“Maybe we’re not glad to see little old New York again!” cried Fred.

“I don’t think I’d call it ‘little old New York,’” answered Ruth,
with a smile. “To me it’s a wonderfully big and busy city. When I
first arrive here I always feel like shrinking back until I can get my
bearings.”

“Oh, New York is just all right. I wouldn’t want it any better,”
answered Randy.

“But you don’t want to stay here even when you come,” put in his Aunt
Grace. “You just stay at home a few days and then away you go on one of
those trips.”

“Well, I’m a Rover by name, so why not be a rover by nature?” was the
sly reply, and this brought on a general laugh.

Soon the young folks were aboard the two automobiles. In the meantime
Dick Rover had turned the checks for the trunks over to an expressman
and in a few minutes more the whole crowd was headed for Riverside
Drive. Here a surprise awaited them. Not only was Mrs. Tom Rover on
hand to greet them, but likewise their grandfather, Anderson Rover,
and their old Aunt Martha and Uncle Randolph, who had come from Valley
Brook Farm on a short visit to the city.

“My gracious, this is fine!” cried Fred. “A regular family reunion!”
and then came more hugs and kisses all around.

“My, my! how big you boys are getting!” said old Aunt Martha, as she
surveyed them through her spectacles. “The first thing you know, you
won’t be boys any more――you’ll be men.”

“Well, you couldn’t expect them to remain boys all their life, could
you?” queried Uncle Randolph. “Now they have graduated from Colby Hall,
I suppose they’ll either have to go to college or go into business.”

“No use of shoving them ahead too quickly,” came from Grandfather
Rover, as he sat down and rested his chin on the top of his cane. “They
have been studying pretty hard for years――let ’em take a rest. They
might take a whole year, if it was necessary.”

“Gee, Granddad, you’re a pippin!” exclaimed Randy, going up and placing
his arm around the old man’s shoulder. “A year’s vacation would be all
to the mustard.”

“It might be if you could only get rid of some of your slang in the
meantime,” put in his mother. Yet she had to smile as she spoke.

The boys were glad to get back into their old quarters, and in the
meantime Martha escorted Ruth to the room she was to occupy during her
visit. All the connecting doors of the three houses had been thrown
wide open, making the residences virtually one. While this was going
on Dick Rover hurried back to Wall Street, for business with The Rover
Company was brisk and he was needed at the offices.

“You must be making a lot of money, Dad,” remarked Jack, as his parent
was leaving.

“Well, we’re holding our own, Jack,” was the reply.

“How are the oil wells making out?”

“Very fine.” Dick Rover stepped closer to his son. “Did you hear
anything from Carson Davenport?” he asked in a low tone so that the
others might not hear.

“Nothing since the girls met him. They said they sent word about that.”

“You want to be very careful, Jack. We’ll talk the whole thing over
to-night. That rascal is certainly going to put one over on us if he
possibly can.”

“Why did they let him out of prison?”

“I don’t know. He may have got a number of important friends to appear
for him before a board of pardons, or something like that. Then again,
you must remember that what he was tried for was his trouble with his
partners. I did not want to appear against him because it would have
taken too much of my time, which, just then, was very valuable to our
concern. It’s possible that he got the very people he swindled――or
tried to swindle――to sign a petition in his favor and in favor of his
other partners, Tate and Jackson. But I must hurry now. We can talk the
whole thing over later.”

During the afternoon the twins went out to renew their acquaintance
with some of their former boy chums while Jack and Fred accompanied the
girls on a sightseeing and shopping expedition.

“I’ll be awfully sorry to leave you, Ruth,” said Jack, when he got a
chance to speak to the visitor alone.

“Well, then you’d better stay,” she answered mischievously.

“Oh, you know I couldn’t do that,” he returned hastily. “What would
the other fellows say?”

“I was only joking, Jack. You go ahead and have your outing. I hope you
enjoy every minute of it. Only, please don’t get into any trouble,” and
the girl’s face clouded.

“I think we’ll be able to take care of ourselves, Ruth. And you take
care of yourself, too.”

“Are you going to write?”

“Sure I am! And I’ll expect you to answer, too. You will, won’t you?”

“Why, of course.”

There was a brief silence, neither of them seeming to know what to say
next. Then the former major of the Colby Hall battalion stepped closer.

“I’m going to take that photograph of you along――you know, the one you
gave me some time ago,” he said in a low tone.

“Never!” she returned quickly. “Oh, Jack, suppose――suppose the others
saw it!”

“I don’t care! I’m going to take it,” he answered firmly.

“Well, if you’re set on it, I suppose I can’t stop you,” answered Ruth.
Her eyes were shining like stars. Then Jack caught her hand and pressed
it warmly just as the others came up and interrupted what might have
proved a very interesting tête-à-tête.

Dinner that evening was a grand affair, and Ruth, who sat next to Jack,
declared she had never enjoyed anything so much in all her life. The
twins and Tom Rover were full of fun, and Tom told several stories
which convulsed everybody with laughter.

“Gee, Dad, you’re a wonder!” breathed Randy, trying to stop laughing.
“I can see where Andy gets his wit from.”

“Yes, and I know where you get your habit of playing tricks from,” put
in his mother, gazing fondly at her husband.

“Now, now! No knocking!” cried Tom gayly. “The boys are just all right!
They may cut up a little now and then, but as they both bear marks of
their mother’s good looks, that will be forgiven them,” and then Tom
dodged back, as his wife made a move as if to pull his hair.

Ruth was quite a pianist and had cultivated that talent carefully
during her days at Clearwater Hall. After dinner Dora Rover insisted
that the girl give them some music. After playing one of her best
compositions Ruth gathered all the boys and girls around her and they
sang one popular song after another.

“A touch of old times, eh?” said Dick Rover to Dora, as, with his arm
around her waist, they surveyed the scene.

“It’s history repeating itself, Dick,” she answered. And then she
looked at her husband questioningly and nodded toward where Jack was
carefully turning the sheets of music for Ruth. “What do you think of
them?” she whispered.

“I think Jack is hit pretty hard,” he returned.

“Well, Ruth seems to be an awfully nice girl, Dick.”

“I agree. I wouldn’t ask for a better girl,” he answered.

“But Jack is so young!”

“He isn’t any younger than I was when I came after you and saved your
mother from old Crabtree.”

“Oh, well, that was different!” murmured Dora.

So far the boys had had no opportunity to speak to Tom Rover about the
proposed trip to the West. But soon the twins broached the subject, and
then the crowd around the piano broke up and Mary and Martha retired,
taking Ruth with them.

“We want to talk to the boys in the library,” said Tom Rover to his
wife and his sisters-in-law, and thereupon the ladies took the hint and
also left them.

“Now, Dad, tell us all about the Rolling Thunder mine and Sunset
Trail!” cried Randy. “Gee, I wish I was out there right now!”

“And on horseback!” put in his twin. “Say, we’ll have the best times
ever!”

“I certainly hope so,” returned Dick Rover. “At the same time, I want
to caution you.”

“Don’t scare the boys into fits, Dick,” said Tom. “You’ll spoil the
whole outing if you do.”

“I’m not going to scare them into fits, Tom,” answered the older
brother. “But I am going to give them some advice that I think they
ought to have.”

“I think so too,” came from Sam Rover. “If any fellow ever got on my
nerves, it’s that rascal, Carson Davenport.”

                             CHAPTER XIII

                          A NEW ACQUAINTANCE

The mention of Carson Davenport’s name made all the boys look serious.

“Has that fellow made another demand?” questioned Jack quickly.

“Not directly,” answered his father. “But I have heard in an indirect
way, through a detective working for one of the local agencies, that he
is watching us very carefully. He has been seen in the vicinity of our
offices several times, and you have seen him twice in the vicinity of
Colby Hall and Clearwater Hall. That’s enough for me to realize that
the scoundrel means business.”

“You forgot to mention one thing, Dick,” came from Fred’s father.
“Another one of the detectives from that agency saw Davenport in this
vicinity less than three weeks ago.”

“What do you mean? Here at the houses?” questioned Randy.

“Yes. He was out on the Drive, skulking up and down looking at all the
doors and windows. And he asked one of the tradesmen who lived here,
evidently to make sure that he had the right place.”

“Why don’t they arrest him?” questioned Andy impatiently.

“That’s what we’re going to do as soon as we can get any real evidence
against him,” answered his Uncle Dick. “I’d like to catch him
red-handed at something.”

“I’ve got a scheme!” exclaimed Randy. “Jack, you’d be the fellow to put
it through because you’re Uncle Dick’s son and it’s Uncle Dick that
Davenport is sore on.”

“What’s the idea?” questioned his cousin.

“Lay a trap for Davenport by placing yourself in such a position
that he can get at you. Then, when he thinks he’s got you, let the
detectives close in on him and make him a prisoner.”

“No, no! Nothing like that!” came from Dick Rover. “Davenport is too
dangerous a fellow. He might get away with his scheme, and Jack would
suffer. You can’t imagine how vindictive that rascal is. Why, when he
appeared at the offices and made his demand for that money he acted
like the most cold-blooded villain you can imagine. Sometimes I wonder
if the loss of his money down there in the oil fields hasn’t turned his
brain.”

“In that case we certainly had better look out,” answered Fred. “Why,
for all we know, he might try to set fire to the houses or something of
the sort.”

“No, I don’t think he’ll try anything like that. He is out for money,
and to burn down these houses wouldn’t give him any. Of course, he
might threaten to burn the places down, but that wouldn’t get him
anything, anyway, because we have the places insured, and it would not
be our loss even though it might place us in personal peril and cause
us great inconvenience.”

“What do you really think he’ll try to do, Uncle Dick?” asked Andy. And
now for once the fun-loving Rover boy was really sober.

“I think he’ll work his scheme in one of two ways,” answered Dick
Rover. “He’ll either try to get at me in some business way――by
threatening The Rover Company with some tremendous loss unless we come
across as he wants me to――or otherwise he’ll work his scheme either
through the girls or their mothers or through you boys.”

“Do you think he might try to carry some of us off?” asked Fred bluntly.

“Didn’t it look like it when he tried to get Martha and Mary into the
auto?” questioned Sam Rover.

“And what about that invitation my wife got that she paid no attention
to?” put in Tom Rover.

“What was that?” queried several of the boys.

“You know your Aunt Nellie is quite interested in basket work. This
was an invitation to attend an exhibition of such work to be given by
some Indians at a place uptown. Your Aunt Nellie was urged to come by
all means, and to bring her sisters-in-law with her, and the letter was
signed in the name of one of her friends. She did not go because her
foot happened to hurt her. Later, we found that the signature on the
invitation was forged, and a detective found out that the exhibition of
basket work was a fake. The whole thing was gotten up to get your Aunt
Nellie and her sister and Aunt Dora to a rather out-of-the-way place.
What might have happened if they had gone there, heaven only knows,”
and Tom Rover shook his head ominously.

This revelation was a surprise to the four boys, and they hardly knew
what to say concerning it. It looked as if there had been a slick
attempt made to get the mother of the twins, and possibly the mothers
of the others, into the clutches of Carson Davenport.

“I would like to lay my hands on that rascal if he tried to do anything
to my mother!” cried Jack, his eyes flashing. “I would like to hammer
the daylights out of him!”

“I guess we’d all like to do that,” came from Fred.

“Maybe we’d better stay at home instead of going on any trip,” said
Randy. “We might be needed in case Davenport tried anything on the
girls or mother or the others.”

“No. We have talked the matter over, and we have made another
arrangement,” said Dick Rover. He walked to the door, looked out into
the room beyond, and then closed the door carefully. Then he walked to
the windows, to see that no one might be outside listening.

“I’m beginning to think we have to be very careful,” he went on in a
lower tone of voice. “For all we know there may be a spy in the house.
We have two new servants, you know; and while I think they are all
right, we cannot afford at this stage of the game to take any chances.”

“The idea is this,” said Tom Rover, as his older brother paused.
“You boys are to go out West with me, keeping the matter as quiet as
possible. We won’t even let any one know the exact time we’re going to
start. When we go Uncle Dick and Uncle Sam will look after the girls
and their mothers and your Aunt Nellie.”

“Will they stay here?” asked Fred rather anxiously.

“No. We have already arranged for a trip. They are going down the
coast on a private yacht owned by Stanley Browne.”

“Oh, you mean the gentleman who is a cousin of Colonel Colby and who
was your chum at Brill College!” interrupted Jack.

“That’s the one. I communicated with Colonel Colby, and when he was in
New York last he brought in Mr. Browne whom I had not seen for a long
time. Mr. Browne is taking the trip for his health along with his wife
and his daughter, and they were very glad that the girls and their
mothers should accompany them. They will also take Ruth along if her
folks are willing. No one will know the destination of the steam yacht,
so I think they will be safe until Davenport is rounded up.”

“Say, this is certainly interesting!” was Andy’s comment. “I don’t like
the idea of running away from such a fellow as Davenport. I’d rather go
after him.”

“We’d do that in a minute, Andy, if it wasn’t for the girls and your
mother and your aunts. But as it is, we feel that we can’t afford
to take the chance. Davenport is a dangerous character, and we have
learned that he was mixed up in a number of shady transactions in the
West before he landed in the oil fields. He isn’t above doing desperate
things when forced into a corner. And it’s true that he and Tate and
Jackson fixed up their differences before they got out of prison. And
while Tate and Jackson may not have the brains that Davenport has,
still they are fellows with plenty of backbone to put through any
nefarious scheme.”

After this there was a consultation lasting the best part of an hour.
The boys could plainly see that their fathers would have gone after
Davenport and his pals without hesitation were it not that they were
afraid something would be done to injure the other members of the Rover
families. They learned that a local detective agency had been engaged
to follow up Davenport and his pals, but that so far little headway had
been made, showing that the rascal was keeping well under cover.

It was decided the next day that Tom Rover and the four boys should
start on their Western trip the following Monday. In the meantime
their mothers and the girls, including Ruth, who obtained permission
to go along, got ready for the trip on the steam yacht and departed on
Wednesday. Without much ado all of the others went down to the steam
yacht which lay in the North River and saw them off on the trip.

“Hope you have a good time,” said Jack, “and no mishaps.”

“You take care of yourself,” returned Ruth. Then all in the party waved
their hands until the steam yacht was lost to view down the river.

Tom Rover was busy with his brothers fixing up business matters
previous to his departure for the West, and he left it to the boys to
buy the necessary railroad tickets, including Pullman accommodations.
The father of the twins wished to stay in Chicago for two days, and the
passage westward was to be arranged accordingly.

Having made so many trips before, the boys knew exactly what they
wanted to take along on the present outing, so it did not take them
long to get their things together. Then, with little else to do, they
all set out that afternoon to purchase the railroad accommodations
desired. They left the house in a bunch, going in one of the family
automobiles. The ticket office was down on Broadway, and it did not
take them long to reach that place.

As they left the house they did not notice that they were being watched
by a young man on the other side of Riverside Drive. This young man
followed the car to the nearest corner, and then summoned a taxicab
that was passing, leaped in, and followed them.

“You can wait here for us, Peter,” said Jack to the family chauffeur.
“I don’t think we’ll be very long,” and thereupon he and his cousins
started to enter the ticket agency.

As the four Rovers crossed the pavement in the crowd a young man
suddenly stepped up and confronted them.

“Hello!” he exclaimed cordially. “Am I mistaken, or is this Jack Rover?”

“I’m Jack Rover, all right enough,” answered the young major.

“And this is Fred, isn’t it?” went on the stranger, smiling at the
youngest member of the crowd.

“Yes, I’m Fred Rover,” was the reply. “But――but I’m afraid you’ve got
the best of me,” Fred stammered. He thought the fellow’s face looked a
bit familiar, but he could not place him.

“Why, I’m Joe Brooks,” said the stranger. “Don’t you remember? Fatty
Hendry introduced us one day when you were over at Haven Point――the day
of the big football game last year. I was over there with Fatty and a
fellow named Ned Lowe, a great singer.”

“Are you the fellow who had the stiff neck and was wearing a silk
neckerchief?” questioned Randy.

“Now you’ve got my number,” answered Joe Brooks. “What are you fellows
doing down here? I thought you were up at the military academy?”

“School has closed. And, anyway, we have graduated,” answered Jack.
He was trying vainly to recall the stranger. The fellow’s face looked
familiar, but he could not remember having ever spoken to him.

“Out for a day’s fun, I suppose,” said Brooks easily. He acted as if he
was in no hurry to leave the Rovers. “How was Fatty the last you saw of
him?”

“Fine as silk,” answered Andy. “Taken on a few pounds more,” and he
grinned. He rather liked the looks of the stranger.

“We’re going to get some railroad tickets,” added Fred, and he nodded
toward the agency.

“Why, that is just where I was going!” exclaimed Joe Brooks. “I want to
get accommodations to Chicago.”

“Well, we’re going farther than that,” said Randy, and thereupon all
entered the ticket agency.

                              CHAPTER XIV

                           OFF FOR THE WEST

While the four Rover boys consulted with one clerk in regard to Pullman
accommodations, first to Chicago and from there to Maporah, Joe Brooks
spoke to another clerk alongside regarding accommodations to the first
named city only. The stranger seemed to hold the attention of the
clerk, asking numerous questions. But his eyes and ears were wide open
to take in all that the Rovers were doing.

“I can’t say that I like that train particularly,” Andy heard Brooks
remark to the second clerk after their own business was concluded. “I
traveled on it once and the accommodations were punk. I think I’ll
ask one of my friends what train he took. He said he had the finest
accommodations he had ever struck.”

With the railroad tickets and the sleeping car coupons in an envelope
in his pocket, Jack and his cousins prepared to leave the agency. As
they did this, Joe Brooks turned to shake hands, smiling as he did so.

“I’m very glad to have met you,” he said. “I’ll mention it to Fatty
Hendry when I see him this fall. I suppose you know Fatty has gone up
into Canada.”

“Yes, I know that,” answered Jack.

“Hope you’ll have a nice trip when you do go to Chicago,” put in Fred,
who felt that he ought to be nice to any friend of Fatty’s, who had
always been a good chum.

“Oh, it’s only a business trip. I sha’n’t be in Chicago very long. I’ve
got to come back to Buffalo and then go to Toronto,” answered Brooks,
and then, bowing and smiling, he walked off and disappeared into the
crowd.

“It’s the funniest thing, but I can’t remember that fellow at all,”
remarked Jack.

“I remember the fellow who was at the football game――the chap with the
stiff neck,” said Andy. “But, somehow, this fellow doesn’t look exactly
like he did. That fellow had more of a round face.”

“Well, he seemed to know us all right enough――and he certainly must
know Fatty and Ned Lowe,” remarked Randy.

All of the boys were in need of new caps, and they became so interested
in picking out the new headgear that soon Joe Brooks was practically
forgotten.

But the Rover boys would have been tremendously interested had
they seen the immediate future actions of the fellow who had so
unceremoniously introduced himself to them. Walking only a few blocks,
Brooks entered a telegraph office and wrote out the following message:

    “JOHN CARSON,
        “Alberg Hotel,
            “Boston.

    “Four boys and Uncle Tom to Chicago morning of thirtieth. Two
    days in Chicago, then on to Gold Hill Falls, Maporah. Not
    recognized.

                                                    “JOE BROOKS.”

“There! I guess that will make Davenport get busy,” murmured the young
man as he handed the message in. Then he paid for it and hurried again
out into the Broadway crowd.

With their mothers and the girls gone, the boys found it rather lonely
at the houses, and upon Fred’s suggestion they had the chauffeur take
them down in the car to their fathers’ offices on Wall Street.

“I think I’m going to get into the game with dad some day,” remarked
Jack, as they watched what was going on. “Financial dealings seem to
suit me exactly.”

“I think I’d rather go into some profession,” said Fred. “Law, or
something like that.”

“Nothing like that for me!” burst out Andy. “I’d rather be a sailor or
some kind of a traveler.”

“Now you’re talking, Andy!” returned his twin. “When we get old enough
let’s go around the world.”

“Oh, I’d like a trip around the world myself,” Fred put in quickly.

“Well, if you fellows went, you couldn’t leave me behind,” remarked
Jack. “But I guess we’re a long way from going around the world just
yet. I think we can be thankful to get such trips as we’re having.”

Since the time the offices had first been opened the business of The
Rover Company had steadily increased. The company now employed eight
clerks, and the quarters had recently been doubled in size. Dick, Tom
and Sam had each an office to himself, and there were likewise offices
for the bookkeepers and stenographers. In front there was a handsome
reception room where customers might be received.

“Mighty spiffy, I’ll say,” declared Fred, as they walked around. “I
don’t believe there are any nicer offices in the whole city.”

All the heads of the company were busy just then, but presently the
lads managed to see the twins’ father and told him of the railroad
accommodations they had purchased.

“Very good,” declared Tom Rover. “Just what we need. I was afraid
we might be disappointed trying to get accommodations at such short
notice.”

To the boys, so impatient to start on the trip, the time from then to
Monday passed rather slowly. They attended a couple of moving picture
shows and took a ride up to Bronx Park, where they viewed the large
collection of animals, and went swimming at one of the city’s large
natatoriums. On Saturday afternoon they attended a ball game at the
Polo Grounds, rooting strenuously for the Giants, who were playing
one of the teams from the West. On Sunday they went to church in the
morning and in the afternoon the twins did what they could to help
their father in getting ready for the trip, since Tom had little time
to spare away from his desk in Wall Street.

“Have you told anybody what train you were going to take, or anything
like that?” questioned Tom Rover, when the last of the packing had been
done.

“No, we haven’t told anybody that,” answered Randy. Neither he nor the
other boys suspected that the stranger who had introduced himself as
Joe Brooks had been spying on them.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” answered Tom Rover. “Of course, it might
not make any difference; but, on the other hand, there is no use in
taking chances.”

At last came the hour for departure. Dick Rover and his brother Sam saw
the crowd off at the Pennsylvania Station.

“Have the best time you can,” said Dick to his son. “And don’t forget
to write.”

“And you take care of yourself, Dad, and don’t work too hard,” answered
Jack. “Take a day off now and then――it will do you good.”

“If you hear anything from that Carson Davenport, let me know at once,”
went on Dick to Tom.

“I sure will!” answered the father of the twins. “And if you hear
anything, you must let us know, too.”

“We will,” put in Sam Rover. And then it was almost time for the train
to depart, and the five travelers clambered aboard.

The boys had reserved two whole sections, so there was plenty of room
for everybody and for the hand baggage. They were soon out of the
tunnel and flying across the Jersey meadows on the first stage of their
trip westward.

“Uncle Tom, you promised to tell us the particulars of what was taking
you to the West,” remarked Fred, who was curious to know the details.

“It’s rather a long story, Fred,” answered his uncle. “But I can give
you a few of the main facts if you’d like to hear them.”

All were more than anxious, and as the train sped onward across New
Jersey and into Pennsylvania they all crowded into one section around
Tom Rover to hear what he might have to tell them.

“I made my first investment in the Rolling Thunder mine about two years
ago,” began the father of the twins. “It was recommended to me by an
old gold miner we met out West years ago, a very reliable fellow. I put
twenty-five thousand dollars in the venture, and then followed it with
another twenty-five thousand dollars. Six months ago I invested a third
twenty-five thousand dollars, making a total of seventy-five thousand
dollars.”

“Gee, that’s quite a sum of money!” murmured Andy.

“Yes, it is. And that’s why I am so anxious to get out and see just
what is going on,” said his father. “When I made my first investment
the mine was doing very well, and it continued to do well after I
made the second investment. Then came something of a break, and the
management of the mine changed hands. I was told that an assessment
was in order, and as it looked all right to me I put up the third
twenty-five thousand as I just remarked. Now there seems to be another
break and something or other has gone wrong, although just what it is I
cannot imagine.”

“How did you find out that matters were going wrong? Did they stop
paying dividends?” questioned Jack.

“No, they’ve not stopped paying dividends. But I am of the opinion
that the dividends are being paid out of the surplus and not out of
earnings, as I have a right to expect. There is an old miner out there,
a fellow named Lew Billings, a man I know well. Billings has sent me
three messages urging me to come on and make an investigation. In his
last message he said he didn’t think it would do any good to send an
agent or a lawyer――that I had better come myself, that there were some
things he wanted to explain to me personally.”

“That looks as though there might be some crooked work there, doesn’t
it?” questioned Jack.

“I’m afraid so. Lew Billings is an old-timer and strictly honest, and
he wouldn’t send such messages as he has unless he was confident that
something was wrong. He wanted me to hurry, and that is why I am trying
to get out there as soon as possible.”

“But you’re going to stop off in Chicago!” broke in Randy.

“I’m doing that, Son, because two other men who are interested in that
mine live in Chicago and I want to interview both of them, if I can get
hold of them. It is just possible that they may have gone on to Maporah
ahead of me.”

“Are those two men your friends or do you think they are working
against you?” questioned Fred.

“I hardly know what to think, Fred. I want to have a talk with them
first, then I’ll know how they stand. If they are friendly, well and
good. But if they are on the other side, so to speak, then I’ll have to
fight my battle alone,” answered Tom Rover.

“I certainly hope those men prove friendly to you,” said Randy. “It
will make matters so much easier. It’s hard to fight a battle like that
all alone, I guess.”

“Do you know anybody at the mine outside of this Lew Billings?” asked
Andy.

“Not a soul, Son. They are all strangers to me. There were half a dozen
men I knew well when I made my first investment. But when the change
came those men either withdrew or were forced out. If they were there
now I wouldn’t have much trouble. But as it is――well, I suppose I’ll
have to take things as they come,” and Tom Rover heaved something of a
sigh. Evidently the trouble at the Rolling Thunder mine was causing him
a good deal of worry.

                              CHAPTER XV

                        AN OLD FRIEND TURNS UP

The boys passed a fairly comfortable night on the train, even though it
was rather warm. They got up early in the morning, to find themselves
rolling swiftly along over the level fields of the middle West.

“Where is Uncle Tom?” asked Fred when the twins appeared.

“He’ll be out in a few minutes,” answered Randy. “I don’t think he
slept very well. I heard him moving around quite a bit during the
night.”

“I’m afraid he’s worried about that mine, Randy,” said Jack.

“Well, I think he’s got enough to worry about,” put in Andy.
“Seventy-five thousand dollars is a lot of money.”

“I’ll say so,” came from Fred. “Gee, I certainly hope he finds
everything all right when we get out there!”

“I’m anxious to get out on Sunset Trail,” said Jack. “That name
certainly sounds interesting to me. We ought to have the best times
ever out there.”

Lunch and dinner had been had on the train the day before, and now
as soon as Tom Rover appeared the crowd entered the dining car for
breakfast.

“I think I’ll have some cantaloupe to start with,” said Fred. “That is,
if――――” He stopped short and stared out of the window. The train had
rolled into the station of a fair-sized town and come to a halt where a
small crowd was collected.

“What are you looking at, Fred?” questioned Jack, as he noticed his
cousin’s manner.

“Look! Look!” cried Fred. “See that man with the big panama hat? Am I
mistaken or is that really Uncle Hans Mueller?”

Jack gave a quick look and so did the others, including Tom Rover.

“Gee, it’s Uncle Hans, all right enough!” exclaimed Andy. He rapped on
the window. “Hello there!” he called out through the screen. “Hello
there, Uncle Hans!”

The man on the platform started and turned around in bewilderment.

“Hello there, Uncle Hans! Don’t you see us?” broke in Fred, knocking on
another window.

“Py chimminy Christmas!” gasped Hans Mueller, for it was really he. “If
it don’t be dem Rofer poys! What do you know apout dat!”

“Are you going to take this train?” questioned Tom.

“Hello der, Dom! You der too, eh? Yes, I was going to takes dis train
by Chicago on. I was waiting till dey start already. Dey got five
minutes here. But now I comes on board quick right avay,” went on Hans
Mueller, and then disappeared in the direction of a spot where the door
to the steps of one of the vestibules of the cars was open.

As my old readers know, Hans Mueller had been a chum of the older
Rovers when they had attended Putnam Hall. He was of German extraction,
but during the World War had proven his American patriotism in a marked
degree. After leaving school he had settled in Chicago, and was now
the owner of a chain of well-known delicatessen stores. He was without
family, and had always insisted that the Rover boys and girls call him
uncle.

“I’m going after him and bring him in!” cried Jack, and left the table
as he spoke. He had to walk through two cars, and then found the
delicatessen dealer approaching him. Hans Mueller was grinning from ear
to ear.

“Dis is de surbrize of mine life!” he exclaimed, as he shook hands. “I
was mighty glad to see you. You go py Chicago, eh? Vell, I go der too.
You know dat is where my chain of stores is.”

“Come on and have some breakfast with us, Uncle Hans,” said Jack.
“We’ll be real glad to have your company.”

“Breakfast, eh? Why, I got breakfast t’ree hours ago! But I come and
have some coffee mit you, anyhow. I can trink a couple of cubs of
coffee any time.”

The twins were sitting with their father, leaving Fred and Jack at a
table opposite. The others greeted the newcomer cordially, and then
Hans Mueller sat down beside Fred.

“You must be my guests while you are py Chicago in,” said the
delicatessen dealer, when they had explained the situation to him. “I
got patchelor quarters mit two extra bedrooms, and I can get anudder
bedroom by one of my neighbors. I got a gut German cook, and I know you
been satisfied.”

“That will be very kind of you, Hans,” answered Tom.

“Vat do you say, poys?”

“I’d like to go, if it won’t be putting Uncle Hans out too much,” said
Randy readily.

“You can’t put me oud,” said the delicatessen dealer. “I vill stay in
der house mit you.”

While the Rovers ate and the delicatessen dealer sipped one cup of
coffee after another, the former gave a few of the details of what had
brought them on the trip.

“I’d like to go oud Vest mit you, but I can’t do it,” said Hans
Mueller. “I got to tend to my chain of stores. Last veek I opened me
a new one, and next month I’m going to open anudder. Dat vill make
fourteen all told.”

“You must be getting rich, Uncle Hans,” remarked Randy.

“Veil, I make enough py mine stores to keep de mule from de window.”

“The mule from the window?” queried Fred, in perplexity.

“Yes. You know vat I mean. Maybe he don’t was a mule; maybe he was a
lion. Anyway, he was some kind of a wild animals.”

“Oh, I know what you mean!” exclaimed Jack. “You mean ‘keep the wolf
from the door.’”

“Yes, dot’s him,” answered the delicatessen dealer complacently.

The Rover boys were delighted to have Hans Mueller with them, for they
loved to hear him talk. While a pupil at Putnam Hall Hans’s English had
not been of the best, and since he had withdrawn to Chicago, and gone
into the delicatessen business, it had certainly not improved.

“I suppose he comes in contact with so many foreigners his tongue gets
all twisted up,” was the way Jack explained it. “But he’s a dear old
Uncle Hans, nevertheless.”

“Many is der time what I’d like to go py Putnam Hall pack,” said Uncle
Hans, with a mountainous sigh. “But dat old school ain’t no more, so I
hear.”

“Yes, you are right. Captain Putnam had to retire on account of his
age,” answered Tom. “We certainly did have some great times there,
Hans.”

“Yes, Dom, so we did. Do you remember dem other fellows――dat Villiam
Philander Dubbs, for instance?”

“Do I remember William Philander Tubbs!” cried Tom, mentioning a dudish
youth who had created considerable sport for him and his brothers.
“I’ll never forget him!”

“Do you know what Dubbs is doing now?” went on Uncle Hans, his small
eyes twinkling.

“No.”

“Dot is a good joke, ha-ha!” roared Uncle Hans. “Dot is de best joke
what I know of!”

“What does this William Philander Tubbs do?” questioned Jack eagerly.

“Vell, dot fellow vas de most redicular boy whatever lived. His shoes
vas patent leathers, and his neckties alvays silks, and so loud dey
could almost talk. And he vas so clean! Oh, you nefer saw a fellow what
washed himself so much and combed his hair so often. Vell, I don’t
t’ink he vas so clean now, nor so dudish either, ha-ha!” exploded Uncle
Hans. “T’ree years ago Villiam Philander Dubbs’s uncle dies and he
leaves all his property to dot young man.”

“That was nice enough,” put in Randy.

“You t’ink so? You know what dat property vas? Dat property vas a
brickyard where dey makes t’ousands and t’ousands of bricks.”

“A brickyard!” cried Tom, with a grin. “Really?”

“Dot’s it, Dom. And now Villiam Philander Dubbs he sells bricks,
t’ousands and t’ousands of ’em. And not only dat, he goes down py de
yard and he sees dat dose bricks are made shust right. Now, can you
beat him?” and once again Uncle Hans roared.

“Well, that’s the way it goes,” said Tom, laughing also. “The fellow
who would like to become an artist runs a shoe factory, and the fellow
who would like to be a carpenter has a music store willed to him.”

Hans Mueller had kept track of quite a few of the former pupils of
Putnam Hall, and he told Tom many interesting bits of news. In the
course of this talk he mentioned several jokes that had been played and
then turned to Andy and Randy.

“You must not t’ink dot your fader was alvays so meek like a donkey,”
he said, closing one eye suggestively. “Your fader could play more
jokes like a dog could scratch fleas.”

“Now, see here, Hans! You mustn’t give me away like that,” remonstrated
Tom. “The boys will get the idea that I was a regular cut-up.”

“A cut-up! Ha-ha! You was worse like a t’ousand cut-ups, Dom Rover!”
laughed the delicatessen dealer. “Ven dose poys cut up, it ain’t to be
wondered at, because dey vas slices from der old stump.”

“Wow-wow!” exploded Randy. “Slices of the old stump! Did you get that,
Andy?”

“I sure did!” was the ready reply. “It knocks ‘chips of the old block’
silly, doesn’t it?” and then all the boys began to laugh.

The boys were so interested talking to Uncle Hans that almost before
they knew it the train rolled into the big Union Station in Chicago
and they had to alight. Hans Mueller rushed off to engage a couple of
taxicabs, and in a few minutes more they were on their way to his
bachelor quarters which were on a pleasant side street and not so very
far distant.

“I like to live close py mine main stores,” explained Hans Mueller.
“Den if anyt’ing goes wrong, I can pe right on de spot quick.”

Even though he was in the heart of Chicago, his quarters were
exceedingly comfortable, and the boys speedily made themselves at home.
Then Tom Rover went off to interview the two men who were interested in
the Rolling Thunder mine.

“I got to go to pusiness now,” said Hans Mueller. “What would you poys
like to do?”

“I think we’ll just take a look around,” said Jack. “We won’t bother
you any more for the present.”

“Vell, you be here in time for supper at six o’clock,” said the
delicatessen dealer, and so it was arranged. Then the boys sallied
forth to look around the big city of the lakes.

                              CHAPTER XVI

                       A PLOT AGAINST THE ROVERS

That afternoon the four Rover boys visited a number of points of
interest in Chicago and even took a run out to the famous stock yards,
Hans Mueller having given them a card to an official located there.
Through this man they were enabled to see many interesting details of
how large quantities of meat are prepared for consumption.

“It’s all right enough,” remarked Andy when they were returning to the
delicatessen dealer’s apartment. “But, just the same, excuse me from
working in or around any stock yard.”

“The same here,” answered Fred readily. “If they had to depend on me to
kill their cattle or dress it, I am sure we would have to go without
meat.”

That evening the boys learned that Tom Rover had had an interesting
session with one of the stockholders in the Rolling Thunder mine. He
was to meet another one of the owners on the following morning.

“I can’t say that things look very good,” said the twins’ father, in
reply to a question from Jack. “There’s a crowd at the mine that is
evidently bent on pushing some of the stockholders, including myself,
to the wall.”

“But how can they do that, Uncle Tom?” questioned Jack.

“They’ve been depressing the value of the stock on the market as much
as possible,” answered his Uncle Tom. “Now they have virtually got
control of the actual working of the mine and are doing things out at
Gold Hill Falls to suit themselves. I think it is high time that I got
on the ground to protect my rights.”

“Dat’s de vay to do it,” came from Hans Mueller. “It’s all right enough
to write letters and talk by de telephone over to a man, but if you
want to do real pusiness go and talk mit him face by face.”

Hans Mueller was quite anxious that all of the Rovers should see
the factory, or works, which he ran in connection with his chain of
delicatessen stores. Tom could not spare the time to go, but the boys
were willing, and so set off on the following morning early.

The works was one where Hans Mueller turned out his sauerkraut,
pickles, and numerous table delicacies. Here they handled many
hundreds of pounds of frankfurters, bolognas, and numerous kinds of
smoked and salted fish and meats.

“Mine sauerkraut has taken already six brizes,” said the delicatessen
dealer proudly. “And nobody in all Chicago has any better hot dogs, as
you call ’em, dan I carry. And den mine cheeses! Why, I import cheeses
from all over de world! I can show you cheeses what you never even
heard de name of,” he went on earnestly.

“And I’ll bet the smell of some of them would knock a house down,”
added Andy.

“Vell, a smell is already something what you got to get used to,”
answered Hans Mueller philosophically.

The lads had lunch with the delicatessen dealer at a cafeteria
restaurant run in connection with his largest store. They had chicken
salad and tongue sandwiches, along with “home-made” apple pie, all of
which the boys relished keenly.

“It’s as good a lunch as a fellow could get at a leading hotel,”
declared Jack to their host. “No wonder your stores are a big success,
Uncle Hans.”

“Vell, I tries to give de bublic der money’s worth,” was the reply.

After lunch Hans Mueller had to go off to visit some of his other
stores, and the boys started out on another inspection of the big city
by the lakes.

“It’s a good deal like New York, only somewhat different,” said Andy.

“That certainly is a queer way to put it,” returned Fred, with a grin.
“How can it be the same if it’s different?”

“Oh, well, it’s like a ball game I saw some time ago,” said Andy dryly.
“It was nine to nine in the first inning, and only three to five in the
last inning.”

“Nine to nine in the first inning and three to five in the last!” cried
Fred in perplexity. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, it was this way: There were nine players on each side in the
first inning, and they started――――” And thereupon Andy dodged quickly
behind a signboard as Fred made as if to attack him while the others
laughed.

The four boys were walking along in the vicinity of the Union Station
when they saw somebody coming toward them. It was the young man they
had met while going for railroad tickets in New York.

“Well, of all things!” cried Joe Brooks, smiling. “You said you were
coming to Chicago, but I certainly didn’t expect to fall in with you
again.”

“Did you just get in?” questioned Fred.

“Got in a few hours ago. How are you enjoying yourselves in the Windy
City?”

“Oh, we’re getting along all right enough,” answered Jack. “We have
been around town quite a bit, and also out to the stock yards.”

“You aren’t staying in Chicago very long, I take it,” went on Joe
Brooks.

“We’ll leave to-morrow morning,” answered Randy.

Thereupon Joe Brooks started to tell them a somewhat lengthy story of
what had brought him to Chicago. He said that he was traveling for a
crockery house and hoped to catch one of his customers that afternoon.

“It’s a rich concern and I’m hoping to land a big order, but I’ve got
to wait till five o’clock before I can see my man,” he went on. “So
I’ve got quite a little time on my hands. What are you fellows doing? I
might go along if you don’t mind,” and he smiled genially.

“We’re not doing much of anything,” answered Jack politely.

“Want me to show you around a little? I’ll be glad to do it. I’d do
almost anything for friends of Fatty Hendry. He and his relatives have
always treated me fine.”

Joe Brooks was a slick talker and before long he was walking with
the four Rover boys, pointing out various places of interest and also
pointing out different people as they passed either on foot or in
automobiles.

“There’s the mayor of this burg,” he declared as an auto flashed past.
“Great fellow he is, too. I had the pleasure of meeting him once when I
was here at a trade dinner. And that man walking on the other side of
the street over there is at the head of the schools here. A great man.
I understand he has made a small fortune out of spelling books.”

“Is that so?” answered Andy. “Well, I don’t think I’ll ever make a
fortune out of spelling books,” and he grinned.

In the most casual manner possible Joe Brooks drew the boys out until
he got many of the particulars from them concerning their proposed trip
to Gold Hill Falls and Sunset Trail. Now that they were so far on their
trip, they did not consider it necessary to be as secretive about it as
before. Never for one minute did they suspect that this young man knew
Carson Davenport or had anything to do with that scoundrel.

“You fellows ought to have the time of your lives out there around
Maporah,” said Brooks. “Gee, I wish I could go along! I’m sure it would
beat selling crockery all to pieces.”

“I certainly hope to have a splendid outing,” answered Jack.

“Well, I guess you have earned it. It’s hard work to graduate from any
school, and I suppose your studies were pretty stiff at that military
academy you and Fatty attended.”

“They were certainly stiff enough,” answered Randy.

“Going to be out there long?”

“A month at least, and maybe six or seven weeks,” answered Fred. “We
hope to have some good fishing, and maybe a little hunting too.”

At half past four Joe Brooks excused himself, stating that he would
have to hunt up his customer before the man had a chance to get away
from him. He shook hands all around and again wished the Rovers the
best of luck.

“He’s a pretty good sort, seems to me,” said Fred.

“He certainly acted nice enough,” answered Andy.

“That’s what he did,” added his twin.

Jack said nothing. For some reason he could not fathom, the strange
young man had not altogether appealed to him. Yet, what there was about
Joe Brooks he did not like was something he could not put into words.

Less than half an hour after Joe Brooks had left the Rover boys he
entered a hotel in one of the shabby sections of Chicago. Here he fell
in with Carson Davenport and a few minutes later the pair were joined
by two other men.

“Well, did you find out anything more?” questioned the man from the oil
fields.

“I think I’ve found out everything we want to know,” answered Joe
Brooks.

“Then you found out where they’re stopping?”

“Didn’t have to. I ran right into the four boys on the street.”

“Well, you certainly were lucky!”

“I hung around the station for three hours before that,” answered
Brooks. “At first I thought I’d call up the leading hotels by
telephone; but I was afraid that might look suspicious. So then I
thought I’d go out and take a look around. I didn’t expect to see
them, and I only thought I could fill in time until to-morrow morning,
when they were to take that train for which they bought accommodations
in New York. I thought maybe I could have a chance to talk to them
before they left and get a few particulars. But now I think I’ve got
everything we need.”

“Let’s go upstairs and talk it over,” said Carson Davenport. “No use of
letting anybody else in on this. There are too many open ears around
down here.”

Thereupon the four men took a rickety elevator to the fourth floor of
the hotel. They entered one of the rooms they had engaged and all sat
down to hear what Brooks had to say.

“They’re going straight to Maporah first,” said the young man. “From
there they are to take horses to Gold Hill Falls. After that the boys
expect to have a good time on Sunset Trail. They did not know exactly
where they would stay, but thought it would be in some place engaged by
a miner named Lew Billings.”

“Lew Billings!” exclaimed one of the other men. “I know him, all right
enough!”

“He’s one of the foremen at the Rolling Thunder mine, isn’t he, Tate?”
questioned Davenport.

“Yes,” answered Tate.

“We know all about Sunset Trail,” put in the other man of the party.
“Tate and I have gone over it many a time.”

“Well, that ought to help a whole lot, Jackson,” returned Davenport,
with satisfaction. “It’s just the place to put through a deal like we
have in mind, isn’t it?”

“Sure thing!” answered Jackson. “Couldn’t be better. Let us once lay
our hands on those kids, and I’ll defy anybody to get ’em away from us.”

“The main thing is to keep out of their sight until our trap is
sprung,” went on Carson Davenport. “We mustn’t let them know what we’re
doing. But once let me get my hands on those boys, and I’ll guarantee
that I’ll make their fathers pony up good and plenty,” he added, his
eyes gleaming wickedly.

                             CHAPTER XVII

                         FOUR BOYS AND A BULL

When the Rover boys returned to Hans Mueller’s house they found the
twins’ father hard at work over a mass of papers.

“I saw that other stockholder,” said Tom Rover, in explanation. “He is
as much mystified as to what is taking place at the Rolling Thunder
mine as I am. He’ll follow us out there just as soon as he can arrange
certain business affairs here. He’s with me in everything, and is going
to help me bring those other fellows up with a round turn.”

“It’s too bad that this whole business had to get into such a mix,
Uncle Tom,” declared Fred.

“For all I know, I may have to call on you boys to help me,” answered
the twins’ father. “From what Brother Dick told me, you did very well
in the oil fields, and you may have a chance to show your mettle out in
the gold fields.”

“Well, I’m ready to help you all I can, Uncle Tom,” cried Jack quickly.
“I’ll do anything you say.”

“The fun of the outing can wait,” declared Fred.

“Sure, it can wait, Dad!” cried Randy. “You just give the orders, and
we’ll fill ’em.”

“I wouldn’t mind running a gold mine for a day or two,” grinned Andy.
“It might give me a chance to fill my pockets with nuggets.”

“I want to warn you boys to be careful of what you say and what you do
when we get to the mining region,” answered Tom Rover. “Some of the men
out there are desperate characters and some are very touchy. You say
the wrong thing to a touchy man and he may pull a gun on you.”

“Oh, we know enough to watch out,” answered Jack. “Just the same, Uncle
Tom, if we fellows can help you in any way, don’t you hesitate to call
on us.”

Early the following morning the Rovers bade farewell to Hans Mueller,
who had them taken to the railroad station.

“If I could only get avay already, I’d go mit you in a minute,”
declared the genial delicatessen dealer. “I haf not forgot what a good
time I haf ven I go to Big Horn Ranch dat time.”

“Yes, and what a dandy outing we did have, every one of us,” declared
Randy.

Soon the Rovers were aboard the train bound westward. As before, they
had a double section and proceeded to make themselves as much at home
as possible.

As the hours went by Tom Rover gave the boys some of the particulars
regarding his interview with the mine’s stockholders.

“There is a fellow at the mine named Garrish――Peter Garrish――who is
now in charge. He’s a promoter from Canada and an unusually slick
individual. From what I can make out, Garrish is going to do his
best to squeeze us out and put himself and his friends in complete
possession of the Rolling Thunder mine.”

“But you say you have your representative there――this old miner named
Lew Billings,” said Jack.

“So I have, Jack. But the trouble is, while Billings is a first-class
mining operator, he is rather deficient in education and knows little
about the legal aspects of affairs. On the other hand, Garrish was at
one time a lawyer and evidently knows the mining game from a legal
standpoint in all its details. For all I know, when it came to legal
matters he might be able to twist Billings around his finger.”

“Perhaps it would have been a good thing, Dad, if you had brought a
lawyer along,” suggested Randy.

“Before I left Chicago I had an interview with a lawyer who is
affiliated with our attorneys in New York. I arranged matters with him
so that if he is needed he’ll come on immediately to represent me.”

As the boys had traveled westward before, the trip was no great
novelty. Yet there were many interesting sights along the way, and they
did not tire of looking out of the windows or of spending hour after
hour on the observation platform of the last car.

“These open spaces are what get me,” declared Randy, stretching out his
arm in a semicircle. “Just look at the thousands and thousands of acres
of land that seem to be going to waste!”

“Yes, and then think of the thousands and thousands of people who are
huddling in the tenements of all of the big cities,” returned Jack. “It
seems all wrong, doesn’t it?”

“Well, I suppose a lot of those people want companionship,” came from
Fred. “And they wouldn’t get much of it if they were spread all around
this scenery.”

“I don’t believe I’ll ever want to settle down in the heart of a big
city,” said Andy thoughtfully. “Where we live isn’t so bad. We’ve got
plenty of air and a nice view of the Hudson River. But, just the same,
I’d rather rove around the open places. When I get down in one of
those narrow streets in lower New York, with the monstrous buildings on
both sides, I always feel shut in, just as if the whole thing was going
to tumble down on top of me.”

“You’d rather have a bungalow on the top of Pike’s Peak, wouldn’t you,
Andy?” laughed Jack.

“Perhaps. Although I think I’d prefer a bird’s nest on the top of the
north pole,” answered the fun-loving boy, with a grin.

The first day on the train passed without special incident. The boys
slept well, and the twins were glad to note that their father did
likewise.

“I guess dad is glad that Mr. Renton is going to act with him. You know
he represents a sixty-thousand-dollar interest, and that is a good
deal,” said Randy. Mr. Renton was the second stockholder Tom Rover had
called upon in Chicago.

At noon on the second day, which was the Fourth of July, came something
of an interruption. The whole party were at lunch in the dining car
when there came such a sudden halt that their coffee was splashed all
over the table.

“Wow!” exclaimed Andy. “Good-by, green corn!” he added, for an ear of
corn had rolled from his plate to the aisle of the car.

“We certainly stopped in a hurry,” declared Fred. “I wonder what is the
matter?”

“Maybe it’s a celebration,” suggested Randy.

The boys and Tom Rover finished their meal and then walked back to the
car where their sections were located. They found that a number of the
passengers had left the train, and from one of these learned that there
was trouble on a bridge just ahead.

“A freight that was crossing left the tracks, and they say it will take
an hour or more to clear up the muss,” explained one of the passengers.

“Let’s go up ahead and take a look at things,” said Jack. “I’ll be glad
to stretch my legs.”

“I don’t think I’ll go,” returned Tom Rover. “While the train is
standing still I think I’ll try to catch a nap. You boys can go if you
want to. But keep out of trouble and don’t get left when the train
starts again.”

The spot was one where the road crossed a small stream. Along this
watercourse there was a fringe of trees and brushwood. The land was
comparatively level and covered with sage and prairie grass.

Quite a crowd of people were collected at the front of the train, and
the boys soon saw what the trouble was. Two freight cars were off the
track and resting in just such a position that the other train could
not get by.

“They’ve sent for a wrecking crew and think they’ll be here inside of
half an hour,” said one of the men, in answer to the boys’ questions.
“It won’t take them very long to straighten matters out when once they
get at work.”

Having viewed the wreck for several minutes, the boys saw a footpath
leading along the stream, and Andy suggested that they take a short
walk in that direction.

“I don’t know what state we’ll be walking in,” said the fun-loving
Rover. “But it will certainly be a state that suits me.”

“I’ll tell you what we might do, Andy,” suggested his brother, with
a twinkle in his eye. “You were saying something this morning about
missing your bath. What’s the matter with going in swimming here?”

“Gee, that would be an idea!” was the ready response. “Let’s do it!”

“No, you don’t!” ordered Jack. “You don’t know a thing about that
stream in the first place. And in the second, how would you feel if you
were in the water and suddenly heard the train whistle to go ahead?”

“I’d grab up my clothing and run,” answered Andy.

“Maybe you would and maybe you wouldn’t,” declared Fred. “I’d like a
swim myself. But I really don’t think we ought to risk it,” he added.

It was very pleasant walking along the footpath bordering the river,
and the boys found several spots which in the past had evidently been
used for camping. They had vaulted a low fence, satisfied that no one
would interfere with their walk.

“Not a house in sight,” declared Jack, looking around. “And yet we
passed a fair-sized town just when we started to go to lunch.”

“This is some sort of a ranch, I take it,” returned Fred. “Aren’t those
cows further up the river?”

“Sure they’re cows!” declared Randy. “And a pretty big herd of ’em,
too.”

“I understand cattle on the hoof is worth a good deal of money these
days,” went on Jack. “I’d like to own a few thousand cattle.”

“It must be a lot of fun rounding them up,” declared Andy.

“It isn’t so much fun though if the cattle try to round you up,”
answered Fred.

The boys walked on a little farther and then concluded that it would
be best to return to the train. They had just started to retrace their
steps when they heard a crashing in the brushwood behind them. “Hello!
who’s coming?” cried Fred.

“He must be in a tremendous hurry by the noise he’s making,” came from
Randy.

“Sounds to me like one of those cows,” announced Jack.

The sounds kept coming closer and presently through an opening in the
brushwood behind them the four boys saw a large beast come into view.

“It isn’t a cow――it’s a bull!” exclaimed Fred.

“Yes, and he doesn’t look to be any too friendly,” answered Jack.

“Say, I don’t like this,” said Andy. “Looks to me as if that beast
might come for us.”

The boys continued on their way in the direction of the train and the
bull came after them. At first the beast eyed them with more curiosity
than anger. But presently he gave a bellow and started to charge toward
them.

“Look out! He’s coming for us!” yelled Jack. “Run for it, everybody!”

No one needed any urging, and the four boys hurried down the footpath
as fast as they could go. The sudden flight of the lads seemed to take
the bull by surprise. His first charge came to a sudden halt. Then,
however, he let out another bellow and came after them swifter than
ever.

                             CHAPTER XVIII

                            A NARROW ESCAPE

“Run! Run!”

“He’s right behind us!”

“Maybe we’d better jump into the river!”

“Get behind the bushes,” suggested Jack. “He can’t get through as
quickly as we can! He’ll get himself all tangled up!”

One after another the Rover boys left the footpath and plunged into
the brushwood leading down to the stream. Then they came to a clump
of trees, several branches of which swung low, and Randy, who was in
advance, pulled himself up. The others, seeing the move, followed. On
and on came the bull, crashing through the brushwood with scarcely an
effort. Then, just as the last of the four lads had pulled himself up
into one of the trees, the enraged beast gave a bellow and a snort and
came to a stop just beneath them.

[Illustration: THE ENRAGED BEAST CAME TO A STOP BENEATH THEM.]

“Gee, but that was a narrow escape!” gasped Randy, when he could catch
his breath.

“I’ll tell the world it was,” panted Fred. “Gosh! did you ever see
such a savage beast?”

“He was certainly willing to horn all of us,” answered Jack.

“Yes, and he’s still willing,” came from Andy as he looked downward.
“Hi! Get out of there!” he yelled, shaking his fist at the bull. But
this only made the beast bellow louder than ever. He switched his tail
and shook his head from side to side and then glared viciously at the
four boys.

“We’re in a pickle, if you ask me,” declared Fred, after a pause during
which the boys tried to regain their breath. “If that bull doesn’t go
away, how are we going to get back to the train?”

“Is that a question or a riddle?” queried Andy. “If it’s a riddle, I
give it up. This is sure a new sort of Fourth of July celebration.”

“If we only had a few rocks to throw at the bull perhaps we could chase
him away,” suggested Fred.

“Not that bull!” answered Jack. “He’s a real dyed-in-the-wool monarch
of the pasture. Just look at him! Why, he looks as if he was thinking
he might butt down the tree and get at us that way!”

The boys were certainly in a quandary. They had not only to act, but to
act quickly. Any moment they expected to hear the whistle of the train
preparatory to continuing the journey westward.

“We’ll be in a fine pickle if that train goes off,” groaned Andy.

“Yes, and what will dad think when he finds us missing?” added his twin.

The tree the boys had climbed was a short, stocky affair, and some of
its branches intertwined with those of another tree standing directly
on the bank of the stream along which the lads had been walking.

“Come on! I think I see a way out of this!” cried Jack. “Anyway, it
won’t hurt to try it!”

“What do you propose to do?” questioned Fred quickly.

“See that big tree? It leans right over the river and some of the
branches touch one of the trees on the other side.”

“Hurrah! That’s the thing to do!” burst out Randy. “I don’t believe
that bull will follow us across the stream.”

“I don’t think so myself. Anyway, we can try getting over. We won’t be
any worse off on that side of the water than we are on this.”

Jack led the way with all possible speed, and one after another his
cousins followed him. It was not difficult to get into the next tree;
but climbing out on the sloping trunk and then out on the limbs which
brushed those from the tree on the other side of the stream was not so
easy. Jack made the first swing and Andy followed. Then came the other
twin.

“Be careful, Fred!” yelled Jack, as he saw his cousin swing downward.

He had scarcely spoken when there was a crack of wood as the limb upon
which the youngest Rover had depended snapped. But Fred swung himself
outward and then caught tight hold of a limb below those upon which the
others rested.

“Safe?” queried Jack eagerly.

“I――I guess so!” panted Fred. “Gee, but that was a close shave!”

“Listen!” called out Andy suddenly. “Isn’t that the locomotive whistle?”

All stopped short. They heard the bellow of the bull that had been
left behind them, and then, loud and clear, came the whistle from the
locomotive near the bridge.

“They’re going to leave us behind!” groaned Fred.

“Come on――all of you!” yelled Jack. “I’ll go ahead and see if I can’t
stop the train some way.”

When looking at the wreck the oldest of the Rover boys had noticed
that after leaving the bridge the track curved slightly northward in
the direction in which they had been walking. Now, forgetting the bull
entirely, Jack clambered to the trunk of the tree, slid down, and
rushed through the brushwood and then out across the field beyond to
where he could see the distant tracks and telegraph poles.

“I hope he makes it!” cried Andy, as he followed his cousin to the
ground.

“Look! Look! I think the bull is coming after us, after all!” yelled
his twin.

One after another the boys reached the ground. They glanced back, to
see that the bull had come down to the edge of the stream and had even
waded in up to his knees. But evidently the footing did not please him,
and there he remained, bellowing his defiance.

Jack had been in many cross-country runs and athletic contests, but
never had he sprinted faster than now. Over the prairie and through the
sage brush he tore, heading for the nearest point on the railroad. As
he went he pulled out his handkerchief and waved it wildly, yelling as
he did so.

The wreckage had been moved sufficiently to allow the limited to pass,
but the margin of safety was narrow, and the long line of Pullmans had
to proceed slowly. In the meantime the whistle and the bell were kept
going, so that the track might be kept clear of the wrecking crew and
any men who might be around belonging to the freight train.

At last Jack was less than a hundred yards from the track. The train
had been coming slowly, but now, as the wreck was left behind, the
engineer increased the speed. Then Jack bounded on the track, took off
his coat and waved it wildly.

On and on came the train. Would it stop? Jack was almost afraid his
signal would not be heeded, for the great locomotive glided past him,
thundering loudly. Then the brakes were applied, and with a jerk the
long train slowed up.

“Hurrah! She’s stopped!” came from Fred, and in a few seconds more the
three Rover boys came up alongside of the young major.

As soon as the train halted the conductor had a porter open one of the
vestibule doors so that he might ascertain the cause of the new delay.
The train official saw the boys and could not help but grin as they
came up to him all out of breath.

“Almost got left, eh?” he said genially. “Well, it might have served
you right. You had no business to leave the train.”

“Are you all there?” came a voice from over the conductor’s shoulder,
and Tom Rover appeared, his face full of anxiety. “I’ve been looking
all over for you. I thought you might be on some other part of the
train.”

“We’re all here safe and sound, Dad,” answered Randy. “But we’ve had
one experience, believe me!”

“What kind of an experience?” questioned the conductor. And then he
added quickly: “Any more to come aboard?”

“No.”

“All right then, we’ll go ahead,” and the vestibule door was closed
again and the long train proceeded on its way.

Not only Tom Rover and the conductor but the porter and a number of
passengers listened with interest to the story the boys had to tell.
Quite a few laughed when they related how the bull had wanted to horn
them.

“You were lucky to get off so easily,” said Tom Rover. “And doubly
lucky that you weren’t left behind.”

“It was clever to think of crossing the stream from tree to tree,”
commented the conductor. “Bright idea! Of course, the bull might have
waded over, but that would have taken time.”

The boys went back to their sections and were content for the rest of
that Fourth of July to take it easy.

“Well, we had a touch of Western life right at the start,” remarked
Randy. “I suppose we’ve got to look for all sorts of things to happen
when we get out on Sunset Trail.”

“Oh, you mustn’t think the West is as wild as all that,” answered Tom
Rover. “Most of the wild things that are happening to-day are in the
movies. You may find things no more exciting at Gold Hill Falls than in
any coal-mining town in Virginia or Pennsylvania. With the coming of
men to those places, the wild animals have taken themselves to the tall
timber.”

“Oh, don’t spoil the outing, Uncle Tom!” cried Fred. “Why, we expect
to see bears and mountain lions and everything like that before we go
back!”

“All right then, Fred, go to it,” laughed his uncle. “Only don’t let
the bears and mountain lions see you first.”

By noon of the next day they had left the prairies behind and were
slowly but surely climbing the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Now
the character of the scenery changed, and the boys were gradually
impressed with the beauties of nature as unfolded to their vision.

“Here’s a regular scene for a painter,” said Jack presently, and he
pointed down into a deep valley where a river wound its way among
numerous bowlders. There was a small stretch of pasture land on one
side of the stream, and beyond was a mountain covered with timber of
various kinds.

It was at the next stop, reached about an hour later, that the Rover
boys caught their first sight of Indians. There was a reservation not
a great distance away, and a number of the redmen, along with their
squaws, had come down to the station to sell trinkets and to obtain
tips for allowing their photographs to be taken.

“That’s one way of getting into the pictures,” remarked Jack. “That old
Indian yonder said I could take his photograph shaking hands with you
other fellows for fifty cents apiece. What do you know about that!”

“The old Indians don’t change much,” answered Tom Rover. “They are out
for any money they can get. Just the same, that old Indian may have a
son at college or on one of the big baseball teams.”

“I knew one of the Indian ball players,” said Fred proudly. “His name
was Big Knee, but they called him Joe Smith. He was a twirler for a
middle West team.”

It lacked but an hour to sunset when they arrived at Maporah. The
boys had expected to see quite a town, and were somewhat disappointed
when they saw only a dingy little station, a store and post-office
combined, and half a dozen tumbled-down dwellings.

“Hardly anybody lives around here,” explained Tom Rover. “It used to be
quite a center when the gold mines behind the town were in operation.
But as soon as they failed to pay, the town practically went broke. But
it’s the nearest station to Gold Hill Falls.”

Several days before Tom Rover had sent a telegraph to Lew Billings,
asking that individual to be on hand at the station with saddle horses
or some conveyance to take the whole party over to Sunset Trail. He was
therefore much disappointed when on alighting from the train with the
boys he saw nothing of the man from the mine.

“I don’t understand this,” he said, after a look around. “He certainly
should have received my message.”

There was only a handful of men around the little station, and no one
but the Rovers had left the train. While Tom Rover was deliberating
on what to do next a strange man, a miner wearing a flannel shirt,
broad-brimmed hat, and with his trousers tucked in his boots, strode up
hesitatingly.

“Are you Mr. Rover?” he asked in rather a low voice.

“I am,” answered Tom.

“My name is Butts――Hank Butts. I work over at the Rolling Thunder mine.”

“Is that so? Then, Butts, perhaps you can tell me where Lew Billings
is?”

For reply, and greatly to Tom Rover’s astonishment, the miner leaned
forward and whispered hoarsely:

“I can’t tell you that, partner. Lew disappeared two days ago, and
nobody seems to know what’s become of him.”

                              CHAPTER XIX

                   THE DISAPPEARANCE OF LEW BILLINGS

“Lew Billings has disappeared!” exclaimed Tom Rover.

“Yes, partner. Teetotally and completely vamoosed, and nobody knows
where to,” answered the strange miner.

“Do you think he has been the victim of foul play?” went on the father
of the twins, his face showing his concern.

“I can’t say as to that. He left between two days, as the saying goes.
Nobody saw him go. That is, if they did see him they haven’t mentioned
it,” corrected Hank Butts.

“Did you come here to tell me this?”

“I did. You see, Lew and me have been partners for a good many years.
We went up to the Klondike together, and we also staked out the Blue
Daisy claim. Me and Lew was just like brothers. He told me a little
about what you expected to do when you got here, and told me about
when he expected you to arrive. That’s the reason I’ve been on the
lookout for you.”

“Did you say you’ve been working with Billings?”

“Not exactly. You know the mine is divided into two veins, the north
and the south. Lew always had charge up at the north end while I work
under a man named Haggerty at the south end. But we got together quite
often, just for the sake of old times,” went on Hank Butts.

The boys listened with much interest to this conversation and continued
to listen when Butts explained more in detail concerning the mysterious
disappearance of Lew Billings. He said that Billings and the manager at
the mine, Peter Garrish, had had a hot discussion over certain matters
concerning the way the work was being carried on in the north vein, and
he was afraid Billings had said too much.

“He mentioned you, Mr. Rover, and also a Chicago capitalist named
Renton, and that seemed to make Garrish wild. I understand the two had
it hot and heavy for quite a while, and then Billings went away in
disgust.”

“Was that the night he disappeared?” asked Jack. Tom Rover had
explained to the miner that the boys were his two sons and his two
nephews.

“That’s it. Garrish and Lew had their argument about five o’clock. Then
Lew went down to the bunkhouse, and a little later had his supper.
After that he got some kind of a message and went up the mountainside
where they had reported some kind of a landslide a few days before.
That was the last seen of Lew by any one of our men.”

“Gee! you don’t suppose he was swallowed up by the landslide?”
exclaimed Randy.

“There wasn’t no landslide when Lew went there. That happened several
days before. Besides, me and some other men searched the whole vicinity
and didn’t find no trace of Lew.”

“But he might have been caught in a new slide and buried out of sight,”
said Andy.

“It’s possible, my lad. But I don’t think so. Lew Billings was a very
careful man, and he wouldn’t go prowling around no loose dirt or rocks
unless he knew what he was doing. In all the years he’s been mining and
prospecting, I never knew him to get caught in any such way as that.”

“Well, what’s your idea, Butts? Give it to me straight,” came sharply
from Tom Rover. “We’re both friends of Lew Billings, so there is no use
in beating about the bush.”

“Well, it ain’t for me to say what happened to Lew,” returned the
old miner doggedly. “I told you about the argument he had with Peter
Garrish. Maybe that had something to do with it, and maybe it didn’t.”

“Well, Lew Billings is my friend and Peter Garrish is not,” answered
Tom Rover bluntly. “This looks like some sort of foul play to me.”

“Oh, Dad, you don’t think they would――――” Andy broke off short, hardly
daring to go on.

“I don’t know what to think, Andy,” was his father’s sober reply. “This
is rather a wild country, you know; and I have told you my opinion of
Garrish and his crowd before.”

“Do you think it possible that Billings took a train to Chicago to head
you off?” questioned Jack. “He might have gained some new information
that he wanted to get to you as soon as possible.”

“I don’t think he took no train,” interposed Hank Butts. “Leastwise,
not from this station. I’ve asked the station master, and he named over
everybody who got a ticket and went aboard, both ways. If he took a
train at all, it would have been from some other place.”

“Can’t you figure it out at all, Butts?” questioned the twins’ father.

“No, I can’t. I don’t think Garrish is the man to shoot another
fellow. He’s too much of a coward. But he might play Lew some underhand
trick. I think Lew made a big mistake to mention you and that Mr.
Renton.”

“Maybe that gave this Peter Garrish an idea that Billings knew too much
and ought to be gotten out of the way,” suggested Jack.

“It almost looks like that,” answered his uncle. “But the question just
now is: What did they do with the man?”

The matter was talked over for some time longer, but no one could
suggest a solution of the mystery. Lew Billings, the individual
Tom Rover had depended on in his fight to maintain his rights in
the Rolling Thunder mine, had disappeared, and Tom was almost at a
standstill concerning what to do next.

“Aren’t you going over to Sunset Trail?” demanded Randy anxiously. “You
aren’t going to back out, are you, Dad?”

“No, I’m not going to back out,” was the firm reply. “But I suppose
I’ll have to change my plans somewhat, awaiting the reappearance of
Lew Billings or some word from him. He wrote that he had important
information, but he didn’t give sufficient details for me to go ahead
alone. If Billings doesn’t show up, I suppose all I can do is to wait
until Mr. Renton comes.”

Hank Butts had come over to Maporah on horseback, leading one other
steed, that belonging to Lew Billings.

“And that proves that Lew didn’t go away on horseback,” said Butts,
“because it’s the only nag he owns. I brought him over in case I met up
with you,” and he nodded to Tom Rover.

“Well, I’ve got to find some sort of mounts for the boys,” answered the
twins’ father. “Otherwise, we’ll have to make some arrangement to stay
here.”

“You might get a shakedown over to Gus Terwilliger’s,” answered the old
miner, waving his hand toward the store. “He’s got a kind of bunkhouse
in the back there. It ain’t much of a place, but the miners and cowboys
use it sometimes, when they’ve got to wait for trains.”

“Do you suppose he has any horses?”

“I can’t say. He might have.”

“I don’t suppose they have anything in the way of an auto running up
that way?” came from Fred.

“Not much!” and for the first time since meeting them Hank Butts
grinned. “Pretty good going down here, but once you get in the
mountains, and you couldn’t run an auto a hundred yards. Besides, some
of them trails is so narrow a horse can’t scarcely navigate ’em.”

“In that case, how did they get the mining machinery up there?”
questioned Jack.

“It all had to come in by the lower route, lad. It’s over a hundred
miles more than this way around. But they had to do it, for there ain’t
no other way to reach Gold Hill――that is, by wagon.”

The crowd had walked away from the station and now came back to find
the place deserted and locked up.

“No more trains to stop here until nine o’clock to-morrow morning,”
announced Hank Butts, as he untied the two horses and offered one of
the steeds to Tom Rover. “Each of us might carry one of the boys, but I
don’t see how we could carry two,” he went on.

“We’ll go over to the store and see what we can do,” answered the
twins’ father, and with the boys walking and the men riding they soon
reached the general store which the miner had indicated. Here the last
of the customers had departed, and the proprietor sat in an easy chair
dozing with his pipe hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“Sure! I can give you a shakedown for the night if you want it,” said
Gus Terwilliger, after the situation had been explained to him. “Or,
if you want it, I may be able to fit you out with horses.”

“Didn’t know you had so many animals, Gus!” exclaimed Butts, in
surprise.

“Oh, a general store like this has got to keep everything,” answered
the storekeeper, with a grin, and then went on to explain that six
cowboys had gone away on a vacation and had left their steeds in his
care.

“They said I could hire ’em out to any responsible parties that came
along,” went on Gus Terwilliger. “They’d be mighty glad to get a little
money out of the beasts instead of having ’em eat their heads off in my
corral. Cowboys ain’t any too wealthy, you know.”

The quarters the storekeeper had to offer were clean and fairly
comfortable, and after another talk with Hank Butts Tom Rover decided
to stay at Maporah over night.

“If we went over to Gold Hill with you it might only make more trouble
for you,” he explained to the old miner. “You had better go back and
say nothing about having seen me. We can ride over to-morrow just as
well as not. But I’m going to depend on you as a friend, Butts,” he
added, taking the old miner by the hand. “And if you hear of anything
worth knowing, don’t fail to let me know about it and at once.”

To this the old miner agreed, and a few minutes later set off on
horseback, taking Lew Billings’s mount with him. Then the Rovers
reëntered the general store and asked the proprietor if he could give
them their supper.

“Sure thing! And breakfast, too,” answered Gus Terwilliger. “That’s
what my wife and two daughters are here for――to wait on all customers.”

The boys were shown a place where they could wash, and a little later
they and their uncle were conducted to a small but comfortable dining
room and there treated to a home-cooked meal that, while perhaps not
as elaborate as those served on the train, was entirely satisfactory.
The two Terwilliger girls waited on the table and smiled broadly at the
visitors.

“Going to work in the mine?” questioned one of the girls, a miss of
fifteen.

“No. We came out to hunt elephants,” answered Andy, with a wink, and
thereupon both girls giggled and soon became quite friendly.

After the meal the horses were brought out and examined and Tom Rover,
with the aid of the boys, selected five of the mounts, and also hired
the sixth animal for the purpose of transporting their baggage up to
Sunset Trail.

“Well, Uncle Tom, things don’t look very bright, do they?” questioned
Jack of his uncle when they were ready to turn in.

“They certainly do not, Jack,” was the sober reply. “This unexpected
disappearance of Lew Billings upsets me a good deal. I hardly know what
to expect when I reach the mine.”

“Do you think you’ll have trouble with this Peter Garrish?” questioned
Randy.

“I certainly do! A whole lot of trouble!” answered Tom Rover.

                              CHAPTER XX

                      AT THE ROLLING THUNDER MINE

“What a magnificent view!”

It was Jack Rover who spoke. The party had been on the way to Sunset
Trail for over two hours. All were mounted on the steeds Tom Rover had
hired from the storekeeper and behind them came the extra horse loaded
down with their belongings.

“I’ll say it’s a fine view!” declared Fred, who was riding beside his
cousin.

They had reached the top of one of the foothills of the Rocky Mountains
and on all sides stretched rocks and forests with here and there a
great mound rearing its head toward the sky. At one point there was
a sharp cleft in the mountainside, and from this rushed a torrent of
water, making a thundering sound as it reached the rocks and the river
bed far below.

“That’s where the Rolling Thunder mine gets its name,” said Tom Rover,
pointing to the waterfall. “If you close your eyes you’ll think the
sound very much like rolling thunder.”

“Is the mine over there?” questioned Andy eagerly.

“Yes. But you can’t see it from this point. We’ve got to cover at least
two miles more before we get in sight of the place.”

“And where is Sunset Trail?” questioned Jack, with equal eagerness.

“That’s just above and a little to the south of the falls,” answered
his uncle. “We’ll hit that trail just before we get to Gold Hill.”

The climbing up and down the foothills leading to the mountains beyond
was no easy task for either horses or riders, yet the boys enjoyed the
outing thoroughly.

“It beats reciting in a classroom all hollow,” was the way Randy
expressed himself. “Me for a life in the open air every time!”

“I knew you boys would enjoy this,” declared Tom Rover. “If it wasn’t
for what I’ve got on my mind just now I’d be as crazy about it as you
are,” and for an instant there was an old-time twinkle in his eyes.

“Oh, Uncle Tom, don’t worry about the mine all the time!” burst out
Fred. “Things may straighten themselves out quicker than you expect.”

“I hope they do,” answered his uncle. But almost immediately his face
again resumed a worried look. The disappearance of Lew Billings had
affected him deeply.

Tom Rover had already explained to the boys that many of the men at the
mine kept house for themselves and that there was also something of a
boarding house, presided over by a colored man, Toby White, who at one
time had been a chef in a San Francisco hotel. It was at Toby White’s
boarding house they hoped to obtain accommodations during their stay at
Gold Hill.

“But of course we won’t want to stay at the boarding house all the
time,” said Fred, as the party rode along. “We want to get out on
Sunset Trail and do some hunting and fishing.”

“You’re welcome to go out as much as you please, Fred,” answered his
uncle. “All I ask of you is that you keep out of trouble.”

“Oh, we know how to take care of ourselves,” answered the youngest
Rover confidently.

“But remember, Uncle Tom, we won’t want to leave you if you need us,”
put in Jack quickly. “If there is any fighting to be done, we want to
be right alongside to help you.”

“I don’t expect any fighting, Jack,” was the reply. “Peter Garrish
isn’t that kind of a man. As Hank Butts said, he’s a good deal of a
coward. If he tries anything at all, it will be in a very underhand
way. What I want him to do is to open the books of the concern and
let me talk with the superintendent and the others in charge of the
mine and find out exactly how things are going. I have an idea they are
selling a good portion of their ore to another concern at a low price
and that that concern is owned by Garrish and his friends.”

It was not yet noon when they came in sight of Gold Hill. As they
made a turn of the mountain trail they came again within sound of the
thundering falls, which was now below them.

The entrance to the Rolling Thunder mine was not a prepossessing one.
The opening was in the side of the hill and from it ran a small railway
to a crusher a short distance off. There were half a dozen buildings,
some of wood and some covered with galvanized iron. Half a dozen men
were moving about and they gazed curiously at the new arrivals.

“We’ll go over to Toby White’s boarding house first and see what sort
of accommodations we can get there,” said Tom Rover. “I don’t want to
give Garrish a chance to keep us out.”

“Keep us out! What do you mean?” questioned Randy.

“He might give Toby a tip not to take us in. He might try to make it so
uncomfortable that we couldn’t stay here.”

“But we could camp out if we had to!” cried Fred.

“Sure we could! And that’s what I’ll do if we have to,” answered his
uncle.

Tom had been at Toby White’s before, at the time he had made
his investment in the mine, and as he had treated the colored
boarding-house keeper rather liberally, White was all smiles when he
recognized his visitor.

“I suah am proud to see you, Mistah Rover,” he said, bowing. “Got your
fambly with you, eh?”

“I have, Toby. My two sons and my two nephews. I want to know if you’ve
got accommodations for us.”

“I ce’tainly has. Come right in and make you’selves at home. Dinner
will be ready in half an hour.”

“We may want to stay quite a while, Toby,” went on Tom Rover, as he
dismounted, his action being followed by the boys.

“Stay as long as you please, sir. I can give you a room to you’self and
I’ve got two other rooms where the young gentlemen can double up. Just
come right in, sir.”

“I wonder if he’d have been so friendly if he knew Uncle Tom was after
Peter Garrish’s scalp,” whispered Fred to his cousins.

“Hush, Fred,” admonished Jack in a low tone. “You’d better keep all
that sort of talk under your hat for the present.”

Having proceeded to make themselves at home in the rooms by putting
away their belongings, the boys rejoined Tom Rover, who had announced
that he was going over to the office of the mine, one of the small
buildings near the mouth of the mine shaft.

“It’s just possible Garrish may want to see me alone,” announced Tom
Rover. “So if I give you boys the hint just make yourselves scarce for
the time being,” and so it was arranged.

“But don’t forget if you need us just yell and we’ll come running,”
announced Randy. He had heard his mother warn his father not to get
into a fight with the mine manager.

While Tom Rover walked over to the office the boys wandered down to the
mine opening, gazing curiously at the darkness beyond where only a few
lights flickered.

“Gee, I never could see what there was in being a miner――I mean a
fellow to work way in the bowels of the earth like this,” remarked Fred.

“I don’t think this is as bad as a coal mine,” answered Andy. “Gosh!
that would get your goat, sure. Those poor fellows are hundreds and
hundreds of feet out of sight of daylight. If anything gives way,
it’s all up with them. I’d rather be a lineman working on the top of
telephone poles.”

“Yes, or even an aviator flying through the clouds,” added his twin.

When Tom Rover entered the office attached to the mine he found
two young clerks in charge. Neither of them was working. One had a
newspaper in his hand and from this was reading some baseball scores.
They stared in wonder at their visitor.

“Is Mr. Peter Garrish around?” questioned Tom. His manner was one of
authority and the clerks felt instinctively that here was some one who
was entitled to their attention.

“Mr. Garrish just stepped out to the mine for a few minutes,” answered
one of the clerks. “He’ll be back presently. Anything I can do for you?”

“Did he go down in the mine?” questioned Tom Rover.

“No, he only went over to call up one of the gang foremen. They’re
getting ready to set off another charge down there.”

“Then I’ll walk over and see if I can find him.”

The boys walked around the mouth of the mine and then stepped inside
for several yards in order that they might get a better view of what
was beyond. They were straining their eyes in the semi-darkness when
suddenly Jack felt a rather rough hand on his shoulder.

“Hi, you fellows! What are you doing here?” cried an unsympathetic
voice. “Don’t you know that strangers have no business in this mine?”

“Excuse us, but we didn’t know we were intruding,” answered Jack, and
he and the others retreated to the mouth of the opening, followed by
the man who had accosted them. He was a tall, thin individual with gray
hair and steely blue-gray eyes.

“Where did you boys come from?” questioned the man abruptly, and looked
sharply from one to another.

“My brother and I came with my father,” answered Randy. “These two
fellows are my cousins.”

“What’s your name?”

“Randy Rover,” was the answer.

“Randy Rover!” repeated the man, and his manner showed his astonishment.
“Are you all Rovers?”

“Yes.”

“Are you the sons of Mr. Thomas Rover of New York?”

“We are,” answered Andy.

“Humph! Did your father send you out here?”

“No. We came with him,” answered Randy, and then he continued quickly:
“Who are you?”

“You don’t know that? I thought everybody knew me. I am Mr. Peter
Garrish, and I am in charge here. You say you came with your
father――where is he?”

“Here he comes now,” answered Randy, as Tom Rover strode toward the
crowd.

Peter Garrish looked, and as he saw the parent of the twins his face
took on a look of commingled fear and anger. He compressed his lips and
gave a slight toss to his head.

“Came to make trouble, I suppose,” he snarled, “Well, it won’t do him
any good!”

                              CHAPTER XXI

                          OUT ON SUNSET TRAIL

If Peter Garrish was ill at ease, it must be confessed that Tom Rover
was also somewhat perplexed regarding the best way of approaching
the manager of the mine. He had thought to get a great deal of data
concerning the mine from Lew Billings and then confront Garrish with
these proofs of his wrongdoing.

“Came to look the place over, I suppose?” said Garrish, eyeing Tom
distrustfully.

“I did,” answered the father of the twins bluntly. “And I also came to
take a look at the books.”

“Take a look at the books, Mr. Rover? What’s in the wind now?” and
Garrish’s voice took on a decidedly unpleasant tone.

“I won’t beat around the bush, Garrish. You know that for a long time I
have not been satisfied with the way things are going here. I have got
a lot of money tied up in this mine, and I don’t intend to lose it.”

“Who said you were going to lose it?” demanded the manager.

“Nobody said so, Garrish. But I can put two and two together as well as
the next fellow. I don’t like the way things are running here. By the
way, what have you done to Lew Billings?”

“Billings! I haven’t done anything to Billings.”

“He seems to be missing.”

“Well, that’s his fault and not mine. We had something of an argument
and I told him if he was not willing to carry out my orders he had
better look for a job. Since that I haven’t seen or heard of him.”

“He seems to have disappeared very mysteriously, Garrish,” went on Tom
suggestively.

“See here, Rover, do you want to start something?” snarled the manager.
“If you do, I’ll tell you right now it won’t get you anywhere! I’ve
had nothing to do with Billings’ disappearance. He went off on his
own hook. Now, I know you’re a stockholder here and you’ve got a
stockholder’s rights. But you must remember that I’m the manager and
that I represent the majority of the stockholders. I’m willing to do
what’s fair, but I won’t be bulldozed.”

“I sha’n’t ask you to do anything but what is fair, Garrish,” answered
Tom. “You certainly ought not to object to a large stockholder like
myself looking over the books and taking a look around the mine.”

“That’s all right. But you’ve got to treat me as a manager ought to be
treated, or you’ll keep out of the office and out of the mine too.”

“Well, perhaps after――――” began Tom, and then suddenly stopped and
said instead: “Well, have it your own way, Garrish. Just the same,
I don’t think you’re treating me quite decently, seeing that I have
seventy-five thousand dollars locked up in this mining company.”

“Other people have over half a million dollars locked up in it. I’m
representing them as well as you. You know the majority rule, and I am
taking my orders from the majority.”

After this there was a sharp exchange of words lasting ten minutes or
more. During that time Peter Garrish tried to draw Tom out, but the
father of the twins refused to commit himself any further than stating
that he had come West to look over the mine and likewise the books.

“Well, you can’t go down in the mine to-day, and probably not
to-morrow,” said Peter Garrish at last. “We are using a lot of dynamite
and it might be dangerous. As soon as it’s safe you can go down and
take a look around.”

“All right, that’s fair,” answered Tom. “Now, what about the books?”

“The two bookkeepers are busy to-day making out the pay roll and doing
some other things, but I’ll fix it so you can go over the books with
them in a couple of days.”

This was as much as Peter Garrish was willing to concede. Then he added
that they might obtain accommodations from the general storekeeper at
Maporah.

“Yes, we stopped there last night,” answered Tom. “But now we have
already made arrangements to stay at Toby White’s boarding house.”

“Toby White’s!” exclaimed the manager, and it was evident that this
information did not please him in the least. “Toby had no business to
take you in. That boarding house is run exclusively for mine employees.”

“Well, he had room, and he took us in. I don’t see what harm there is
in it when the rooms are vacant.”

“That place is on mining property, and Toby understood the boarding
house was to be exclusively for our employees. Of course, if you, as a
stockholder, want to stay there, I’ll raise no objections. But I don’t
see what we’re going to do with these boys around.”

“We don’t expect to stay around very much,” put in Randy quickly.
“We’re going out on Sunset Trail to see if we can stir up any fishing
and hunting.”

Another argument started over the question of the boarding house, but
here Tom Rover was firm and stated that they would stay as long as the
colored man would permit them. Then some one came to tell the manager
that they were getting ready to set off the charge as ordered, and he
said he would have to leave and see that everything was all right. But
before going down into the mine he hurried off to the office, where he
closed the door sharply behind him.

“Uncle Tom, those bookkeepers were not busy at all!” whispered Jack.
“When we looked in at the window they were both looking over a
newspaper and talking about baseball scores.”

“Never mind,” answered his uncle, with a peculiar look in his eyes. “I
think I know how to handle this Peter Garrish. He puts on the front of
a bulldog, and just at present I’m going to let him do it. But before
I get through with him I’ll make him squeal like a stuck pig. Don’t
you boys give him any information, and especially don’t say a word
about those stockholders I stopped off to see in Chicago. You just go
back to the boarding house, and then you can go out on Sunset Trail if
you want to. I’m going to ride back to Maporah. I want to send off
several telegrams. He says he has the backing of the majority of the
stockholders. Well, he won’t have when I get through with him.”

“Gee, that’s the way to talk, Dad!” exclaimed Randy, in admiration.
“You get the other stockholders to back you up, and you can soon give
Mr. Peter Garrish his walking papers.”

All returned to the boarding house. A little later Tom Rover set off on
his return to the railroad station. Then the boys, with nothing else to
do, looked over their hunting and fishing outfits and, after dinner,
went off on horseback to do a little exploring.

They found Sunset Trail a fairly good highway leading westward. It
wound in and out among the hills and mountains, and there were numerous
high spots where the descending sun might be viewed to advantage.

“I suppose that is where the name comes from,” remarked Fred, as they
came to a halt at one of these high spots to view their surroundings.
“It must be beautiful here when the sun is setting beyond those distant
mountains.”

“I don’t believe there’s very much in the way of hunting around here,”
remarked Jack. “So far I haven’t seen a sign of anything outside of a
few squirrels.”

“I’d like to get some trout or pickerel,” came from Fred. “Gee, I
haven’t been fishing for almost a year!”

“Speaking of fishing puts me in mind of Clearwater Lake,” remarked
Randy. “I wonder if Phil Franklin has done anything about looking for
that silver trophy we lost overboard.”

“Gee, I certainly wish that was found!” sighed his twin. “They ought to
be able to get at it somehow, if they fish long enough.”

The boys rode up a long hill and then went down the somewhat steep
decline on the other side. At the foot they found a fair-sized stream
of water rushing along through the rocks.

“Here is a pretty good trail,” announced Jack. “And look, isn’t that a
lake?”

“That’s what it is!” cried Fred. “Come on! Let’s ride over and see what
it looks like. Maybe we’ll have a chance for some fishing to-day,” he
added, for they had brought their rods along and also a box of assorted
flies.

The trail was rocky in spots, but the horses seemed to be used to this
sort of going and made fairly good progress. Presently they came out
on the edge of the lake which seemed to be about half a mile long and
over two hundred yards wide. There were numerous rocks on the shore
interspersed with brushwood and trees.

“There ought to be something in the way of fish in this lake,” remarked
Jack. “Let’s try our luck and rest the horses at the same time.”

The lake was located about seven miles directly westward from Gold
Hill and in a spot evidently but little visited by the natives. Not a
building of any sort was in sight, and when the boys discovered the
remains of a campfire they came to the conclusion that the fire must
have been built months before.

Tethering the horses so as to make sure the animals would not stray
away, the four boys quickly unslung their fishing outfits and got them
ready for use.

“I don’t know what we ought to fish with――flies or worms,” said Randy.
“What do you think?” and he looked at Jack.

“If we can find any worms we might mix it up,” was the reply, and so it
was arranged.

Having baited to their satisfaction, the boys wandered along the bank
of the lake, seeking various points that might look advantageous. Jack
and Andy found convenient fallen trees while the others walked out on a
rocky point that projected far into the water.

“Hurrah, I’ve got something!” cried Randy, after a few minutes of
silence, and brought up a lake trout about nine inches long.

“Good for us!” came from Jack. “Not so very large, but it’s the first
catch, anyway.”

For some time after that the fish did not seem to bite. But presently
Jack brought in a trout weighing at least a pound, and then the others
were equally successful. Inside of an hour they had a mess between them
weighing five or six pounds.

“Gee, we’re going to have fish for supper all right enough,” declared
Fred, with satisfaction. “I don’t see why the miners and other folks
around here don’t do more fishing.”

“It doesn’t pay as well as mining, that’s why,” answered Jack. “Just
look at it, we’ve been here nearly two hours, and we’ve got about two
dollars’ worth of fish. If the four of us were working at the mine we’d
have earned at least eight dollars in that time.”

“This wouldn’t be a bad spot for camping,” suggested Andy.

“Suppose we ride around the lake,” suggested his twin. “There seems to
be a trail all the way around.”

The others were willing, and soon the fishing tackle was put away and
they were once more on horseback.

At the lower end of the lake they found another stream of water running
between a mass of dense brushwood. Here the trail was narrow and the
horses had to pick their way, for the spring freshets had thrown the
loose stones in all directions.

“Maybe we had better turn back,” came from Fred. “The trail seems to be
getting worse instead of better.”

“Oh, I reckon it will be all right on the higher ground,” answered
Jack. “When the snows melted last spring I suppose the water was pretty
fierce down here where the lake empties.”

Andy and Randy had pushed ahead, and now they disappeared around a bend
of the trail. A moment later came a yell.

“Hi! Look out, boys! There’s some wild animal here! He’s up a tree!”
came from Andy.

Then came a snarl, followed by a snort of fright from the horse Randy
was riding. The next instant something came flying through the leaves
of the tree, landing on the horse’s flank.

                             CHAPTER XXII

                           THE MOUNTAIN LION

“It’s a wildcat!”

“No, it’s a mountain lion, and it’s going to attack Randy!”

“Shoot the beast!”

“Look out or you’ll shoot Randy!”

“There they go――through the bushes!”

“What shall we do?”

Such were the startled exclamations from the other three boys. The yell
from Andy had brought Fred and Jack hurrying forward, and they were
just in time to see the wild animal land on the flank of the horse.
Then the steed, evidently terror stricken, dashed into the brushwood
alongside the trail, carrying Randy with him.

“Was it really a mountain lion?”

“Where did they go?”

“Randy! Randy! Can’t you shoot the beast?” screamed Andy.

The words had scarcely left Andy’s lips when there came a scream from
his twin and another wild snort from the horse. Then there was added
to the tumult the snarl of the mountain lion and an instant later the
beast dropped from the horse and shot through the brushwood directly in
front of where Jack and Fred had brought their mounts to a halt.

The boys had brought their guns with them, but not having noticed any
game worth shooting at had placed the weapons behind them. Both Jack
and Fred made frantic efforts to get their weapons into action, but
before they could aim at the mountain lion it had whirled around and
disappeared up a rocky trail and then behind a clump of brushwood. An
instant later they saw it streaking up the mountainside. Jack took
aim and so did Fred, but before either could pull a trigger the beast
disappeared.

“Randy! Randy! Are you all right?” called out his twin anxiously, for
they could hear the horse Randy was riding thrashing viciously around
in the brushwood some distance away.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Randy called out. “Whoa, I tell you! You’re all right
now, old boy! Keep quiet! Whoa!” The boy continued to talk to the horse
and do his best to subdue the animal. But the nails of the mountain
lion had been dug deep into his flank and he evidently felt as if he
had been scourged with a whip. He continued to prance here and there
and then, of a sudden, streaked off across a clearing that led upward.

“There they go!” shouted Jack. “The horse is running away!”

“Hold tight, Randy!” shouted Fred. “Don’t let him throw you!” For a
dash upon those sharp rocks that lay strewn all over the open space
might mean death.

Fortunately, Randy had slung his fishing rod beside his gun and had
tied his share of the fish in a cloth behind his saddle. Consequently,
his hands were free to hold the reins, and this he did grimly as the
horse pranced over the field very much like an untamed broncho.

“Whoa! Whoa!” went on Randy, doing his best to subdue his mount. “Whoa,
I tell you! That wildcat――or whatever it was――is gone.”

As the horse shot across the field and among some short brushwood, the
three boys left behind headed in that direction. Each had his gun ready
for use, thinking that possibly the mountain lion or some other wild
beast might show itself.

Never had Randy had a rougher experience than the present. Several
times he was all but flung from the horse as the animal swung around
to avoid hitting one rock or another. Once he dropped the reins and
held on to the horse’s mane. Then the animal stumbled and the lad went
up in the air and it looked for a moment as if he might go over the
horse’s head. But he came back safely, and at last brought the horse
down to a walk.

“Whoa there, Charley Boy,” he said as soothingly as a panting breath
would permit. “Good boy now! Keep quiet!” And then he managed to bring
the horse to a standstill.

When the others came up Randy dismounted and all saw that the horse had
received several deep scratches on the flank, and from these the blood
was still flowing. Randy and Jack attempted to wipe the blood away, but
the horse would not have this and acted as if he meant to “kick them
into kingdom come,” as Andy expressed it. So then they let him alone.

“What became of the wildcat?” questioned Randy.

“It wasn’t a wildcat. It was a young mountain lion,” declared Jack.
“Fred and I tried to get a shot at it, but it got away up the
mountainside before we could get our guns around to taking aim.”

“Didn’t the mountain lion hit you at all, Randy?” questioned his
brother anxiously.

“No, he missed me by a couple of inches,” was the reply. “I saw him
coming and I dodged. He went right over my shoulder and then struck
the horse. Of course Charley Boy wouldn’t stand for that, and he swung
around as if hit with a red-hot whip. That threw the mountain lion to
the ground, and what happened to the animal after that I don’t know
because I had my hands full with the horse.”

“Gee, I’m sorry we didn’t get a crack at that beast!” said Fred
regretfully.

“Well, there’s one thing sure,” returned Andy, and something of a grin
showed on his face. “We know that there’s one kind of game around here.
In fact, two kinds, if you’re going to count the fish.”

After the horse that had been attacked had been thoroughly subdued the
boys continued on the trail around the lake. Now, however, they kept
their guns handy, hoping they might get a sight of the mountain lion or
some other game.

But nothing appeared and, having come to the point from which they had
started, they climbed up the road leading to Sunset Trail. By this time
the sun was descending behind the mountains to the westward and they
thought it time to return to Gold Hill.

When they got back to the boarding house they found that Peter Garrish
had been busy during their absence. Evidently the mine manager had
called upon the colored man who kept the place, for Toby was no longer
as affable as he had been on their first appearance.

“Very sorry to tell you,” he announced. “But I’m expecting some other
miners in a day or two, so I’ll have to ask you all to give up your
rooms and go elsewhere.”

“Have you told my father this, White?” demanded Randy.

“I ain’t seen your father. He didn’t even come back for his dinner.”

“That’s because he had to go away on an errand,” answered Andy. “He
said he’d be back by supper time, and it’s almost that now. You had
better not try to do anything until you see him.”

“Well, I’ve got to have the rooms, that’s all there is to it,” answered
Toby White, and started to shuffle off.

“I suppose Mr. Garrish put you up to this,” called Jack after him.

“That don’t make no difference――I’ve got to have them rooms,” muttered
the colored man, and then went away.

A little later Tom Rover appeared and the boys at once acquainted him
with what Toby White had said. They had agreed to say nothing about the
encounter with the mountain lion, fearing that Tom might keep them
from going out camping as they had hoped to do.

“I expected something of that sort,” answered the twins’ father. “And
after I had sent off my telegrams I had a talk with Terwilliger,
the keeper of the store. He told me of a man who lives up on Sunset
Trail just a short distance from here――a man named Corning. I went
and saw this Corning, who used to run the Mary Casey mine. I made an
arrangement to stop at Corning’s house provided we were put out here.
Corning has his two old-maid sisters with him, and Terwilliger says
they are good cooks and good housekeepers, so I imagine we won’t miss
anything by making a change.”

“But don’t you want to keep an eye on this place?” questioned Jack.

“Yes, I’m going to keep an eye on it, and in a way Garrish little
expects. But I won’t be able to do much openly until I hear from Mr.
Renton and two other stockholders named Parkhurst and Leeds. If I can
get those three stockholders to act with me we’ll control a majority of
the stock, and then we’ll be able to run things here to suit ourselves.”

“Did you hear anything at all from Billings?” asked Fred.

“Not a word. He wasn’t seen around Maporah nor at Allways, the next
station. I am satisfied that he is either in hiding or else he’s met
with foul play.”

The meal served to the Rovers that evening was a fairly good one, but
it was plainly to be seen that Toby White was more than anxious to have
them take their departure. Tom said but little to the colored man,
fearing that the fellow was entirely under Garrish’s thumb.

“I don’t believe in staying where I’m not wanted,” he told Toby White.
“I’ll settle with you right now and we’ll leave as soon as we can pack
our things.”

“Sorry, Mr. Rover, very sorry,” said the colored man. “But you know how
it is here――this place is leased to me by the mining company and I’ve
got to keep my rooms for nothing but miners.”

“Yes, I know. And we’ll go.” And shortly after that the boys and Tom
Rover took their departure.

It was not a long journey to Cal Corning’s place, a long, low log cabin
containing eight rooms, all on the ground floor. Behind the cabin
were half a dozen outbuildings, for Corning was the only man in that
vicinity who kept any cattle.

“Well, I’ll say this is an improvement over Toby White’s place,”
remarked Jack, when they were settling down in the three rooms
assigned to them. Two were of fair size, and these were taken by the
boys, while the third, a smaller room, went to Tom Rover.

“I’ve made a deal with Corning,” announced the twins’ father, when the
Rovers were alone. “He is going to keep an eye on the office of the
Rolling Thunder mine.”

“The office?” asked Jack. “Is he an expert bookkeeper, or something
like that?”

“No, no! Nothing of that sort, Jack,” and Tom Rover smiled. “I’m simply
going to have him watch, so that Garrish doesn’t take it into his head
to have the records of the mining company carted away. I want to get at
the bottom of this deal with that concern that is getting a good part
of our ore.”

After that several days slipped by without anything unusual happening.
Tom and the boys took a look around the outside of the mine, and even
glanced in at the office. They saw Peter Garrish, but had no further
words with him.

“He can stew until I’m ready to move,” said Tom to the boys. “I’ll
wager he’s doing a lot of deep thinking right now.”

On the afternoon of the third day the boys rode over to Maporah to post
some letters, the post-office being in Gus Terwilliger’s store.

“Here are some letters for you fellows, and also a letter for Mr.
Rover,” said the storekeeper, and he handed the epistles over. “They
came in on the noon train.”

“Hurrah! That’s just what we’ve been looking for,” cried Fred.

Then the boys went outside and sat down on the stoop of the store to
read the communications.

“Here comes a fellow tearing along on horseback,” announced Jack,
looking up. “He seems in a tremendous hurry.”

The rider had come from a trail which crossed the railroad close to the
station. Now he sailed past the Terwilliger store at full speed. He
wore a miner’s outfit, and the flap of his broad-brimmed hat flew back
in the breeze. In less than a quarter of a minute he was out of sight
down a side trail.

“My stars!” ejaculated Fred, leaping to his feet. “Did you recognize
that man?”

“It was Tate――the oil man from Texas!” answered Randy.

                             CHAPTER XXIII

                            AT LAKE GANSEN

“Are you sure it was Tate?” demanded Andy, who had had his back turned
to the rider.

“It certainly was,” answered his twin.

“What in the world can that man be doing here?” demanded Jack.

“Don’t ask me!” returned Randy. “I suppose now they’ve let him out of
prison he has as much right to roam around as Davenport has.”

“I remember now that Tate did come from the West,” said Jack. “He was a
miner before he became an oil man. Perhaps he’s interesting himself in
the mines in this vicinity.”

“He couldn’t have anything to do with the Rolling Thunder mine, could
he?” questioned Fred.

“I’m sure I don’t know.”

“Let’s go in and ask Mr. Terwilliger if he knows Tate,” suggested Fred,
after a pause.

“Never heard of such an individual,” answered the storekeeper when the
question had been put to him. “I don’t believe he belongs around here.
Anyway, he doesn’t get any mail at this office.”

The boys talked the matter over for several minutes more. But then they
were anxious to get at their letters and returned to the store stoop
for that purpose. There were long letters from the girls postmarked at
Jacksonville, Florida, where the steam yacht on which they were taking
their outing had stopped. One letter to Jack was from Ruth, and this,
it can well be imagined, the young major read with much interest. Ruth
was enjoying herself greatly and trusted that Jack and his cousins were
having a good time.

“Hello, here’s news that’s mighty interesting!” cried Randy. “Here is
a letter from Phil Franklin, and he says that he and Barry Logan have
made half a dozen efforts to bring up the silver trophy from the bottom
of the lake. He says that once they had it hooked up and brought it to
the top of the water, but before they could grab it the thing slipped
from the trawl and sank out of sight again.”

“Oh, what a shame!” murmured his twin. “To almost have it and then lose
it again!”

“It’s just like the big fish that gets away,” returned Fred. “But,
anyway,” he added, his face brightening, “they must know the exact spot
now.”

“They do,” answered his cousin. “Phil writes that as soon as the vase
slipped out of sight he and Barry took a piece of fish line, weighted
it well, and let it go down to the bottom. Then they tied a bit of
board to the top of the line, and on this hoisted a rag on a stick so
they could see the board from a distance. He wrote this letter the day
after the thing happened and said they were going out again just as
soon as it stopped raining.”

“They’ll get it, I’m sure of it!” declared Jack.

“Well, I’ll feel better when that silver trophy is safe in the glass
case in the gymnasium,” answered Randy.

All was going well with the folks who were taking the steam yacht trip,
and for this the boys were thankful. They had a letter from Sam Rover,
and from this learned that he and Jack’s father were exceedingly busy
in Wall Street. There was also a letter from Dick Rover, but this was
for Tom. When the latter received this communication he read it with
great satisfaction.

“Your dad is right on the job,” he said to Jack. “He had been
communicating with two other stockholders in the Rolling Thunder mine
and has got them to put their proxies in my hands. That means that
I can vote for them at any meeting of the stockholders that may be
called. Those two men represent a hundred and ten thousand dollars’
worth of stock. And that means that I can get along without Leeds if
I have to. All I shall want now is the backing of Mr. Renton and Mr.
Parkhurst and then I’ll be ready to put the screws on Garrish.”

The boys told Tom Rover of having seen Tate, and this interested the
twins’ father at once.

“You want to keep your eyes open for that rascal,” said Tom. “He used
to be in cahoots with Davenport, and he may be yet.”

“We’ll watch out for him, never fear,” answered Jack.

All of the boys were anxious to go farther westward on Sunset Trail
and it was finally arranged for them to take an outing to last several
days. They went on horseback, carrying such things as they needed with
them.

“It’s a pretty wild country, don’t forget that,” said Tom Rover. “But
you have been out before and have always been able to take care of
yourselves, so I don’t suppose that I should worry. Just the same,
remember that I shall be thinking of you,” and he smiled faintly.

“And we’ll be thinking about you, Dad,” said Andy. “I hope by the time
we get back you’ll be in a position to tell Garrish where he gets off.”

“I hope so myself, Son.”

“I’ll bet you have a hot time with him when you tell him to clear out,”
put in Randy.

“It’s awfully queer you don’t get some sort of word from that Lew
Billings,” declared Jack.

“You couldn’t get word very well if he’s dead,” was Fred’s comment.

“Hank Butts gave me an idea yesterday,” said Tom Rover. “He’s got a
hunch that Billings was made a prisoner by the Garrish crowd first and
that he got away and is now in hiding, probably watching what is being
done by that outside company that is taking some of our ore. Of course,
Butts may be mistaken, but he’s a rather shrewd old fellow and may have
struck the truth.”

As the weather was clear and warm the boys did not deem it necessary to
take much in the way of shelter. They carried their sleeping bags and
also a dog tent and blankets, and that was all. They took with them a
few cooking utensils and a few necessary provisions.

“We know we can get fish and we ought to be able to get some small
game,” said Jack. “Anyway, it won’t hurt us to rough it. If we have to
starve a bit, why, that may be good for our digestions,” and he smiled
faintly.

“We shan’t starve as long as we have got our beans and bacon,” answered
Fred. “We’ll get along. We’ve done it before, and we can do it again.”

From Cal Corning they obtained directions regarding the best points to
visit along Sunset Trail.

“That lake you fished in was Dogberry Lake,” said their host. “About
ten miles farther on is Gansen Lake. I know you’ll like it up there.
The fishing is good, and you ought to be able to stir up something in
the way of game.”

Once on the road, the boys felt in high spirits and for the time being
the trouble at the Rolling Thunder mine was forgotten. Swinging his cap
high in the air, Andy led the way with Fred close behind him and Jack
and Randy following.

“I’ll tell you what――this is the life!” sang out Andy gayly. “I feel as
if I could keep riding right along to the Pacific Ocean.”

“Sounds good,” answered Fred. “But I think your horse will have
something to say about that. You’d better take it a bit slow climbing
these hills.”

The two Corning sisters had put up a lunch for the boys, and this was
partaken of shortly after noon, when they reached a high spot on the
trail. Here was a precipice, and standing on its brink they could look
down into a stony valley six or seven hundred feet deep.

“Gee, this is a jumping-off place, I’ll say!” remarked Andy.

“It would be a bad spot for a runaway,” returned Jack.

Back of the precipice was some brushwood, as well as a number of tall
trees, and here the boys proceeded to make themselves at home. They
had sandwiches, cake, and some fruit, and that being so did not deem
it necessary to start a fire for the purpose of making anything hot
to drink. They had passed a spring in coming up to the precipice, and
obtained a bucket of cool, clear water.

“This region is certainly a lonely one,” said Jack while they were
eating. “Just think――we’ve been traveling for better than three hours
and haven’t met a soul!”

“It would be a great place for a stage hold-up,” returned Randy. “The
bandits could get away with almost anything out here.”

“We don’t want any hold-up,” put in Fred. “All we want to do is to
enjoy ourselves,” and he leaned back contentedly against a tree while
munching a chicken sandwich.

A little later found the boys again on the way, and by three o’clock in
the afternoon they came in sight of Gansen Lake. The lake was supplied
from a mountain torrent and the torrent contained a waterfall ten or
twelve feet in height and half that in width.

“Here is certainly an ideal place for camping out!” exclaimed Jack. “To
my mind, it could not be better.”

“It’s all to the mustard!” sang out Andy. “Let’s unload right here and
call it a day.”

“That lake looks mighty inviting to me,” declared Fred. “I’ll say a
swim wouldn’t go bad.”

“Now you’ve said something!” burst out Randy. “Let’s get settled as
soon as we can and then go swimming.”

The idea of getting into the lake after the long and somewhat warm ride
appealed to all the lads, and in less than quarter of an hour they had
their horses unloaded and properly tethered and then hurried down to a
point along the lake shore where the water looked particularly inviting.

“I don’t suppose there can be anything dangerous in this lake,” said
Jack.

“Nothing more dangerous than a few sharks and whales,” answered Andy,
with a grin. “What did you expect to find here――leviathans?”

“There might be some water snakes,” put in Fred. “However, I’m not
going to worry about that. I’m going to have a swim,” and without
further words he proceeded to disrobe and the others did likewise.

At first the mountain water seemed exceedingly cold. But soon the
boys got used to it, and then they proceeded to have as much fun as
possible. They dived and raced, and Andy and his brother indulged in
all manner of horseplay. Near the shore they found the lake quite
shallow, but farther out they were unable to touch bottom.

“These lakes are very deceiving,” said Jack. “Sometimes they lie right
in between steep mountains and the bottom is hundreds of feet down.”

“We ought to be careful about diving too deep,” cautioned Randy. “There
might be some outlet to this lake at the bottom. And if so, a fellow
might be sucked down and be unable to come up again.”

“Let’s get up another race,” suggested Andy, after they had gotten
through splashing water in each other’s faces.

“See that rock over yonder?” returned Fred. “Let’s race to that and
back. Come on! Everybody ready?”

“All ready!”

“Then go!”

Away the boys started side by side, laughing and shouting merrily. Soon
Randy pulled slightly to the front, with Jack close behind him.

“Hi, you fellows, wait for me!” spluttered Fred, who was last.

“The fellow who wins can cook supper for us!” sang out Jack.

“Nothing doing!” yelled back Randy. “The loser can cook supper and wash
the dishes too.”

He came in ahead, the others following closely in a bunch. Then,
somewhat out of breath, the four boys crawled out on some flat rocks to
rest before swimming back to where they had left their clothing.

“My gracious!” suddenly exclaimed Andy, and leaped to his feet in
astonishment. “Look there, will you?”

He pointed across the water to a spot midway between where they had
left their clothing and their camping outfit.

“Wolves!” breathed Jack. “Three of them! What do you know about that!”

                             CHAPTER XXIV

                           THE TIMBER WOLVES

“Now we are in a pickle!”

“I’ll say so! Why, we haven’t even got our clothing, much less our
guns!”

“What are we going to do about it?”

“Don’t ask me! I was never good at answering riddles!”

Thus speaking, the four Rover boys gazed in wonder and astonishment at
the sight before them. Sneaking along cautiously were three large gray
timber wolves, gaunt and fierce in appearance. They had evidently been
attracted to the spot by the scent of the boys and the horses and also,
possibly, by the bacon in the supplies.

“There comes another one,” said Fred.

“Yes, and two more are crouched up on the rocks a short distance
behind,” came from Jack.

“Six wolves! Maybe there’s a regular pack of them.”

“Shouldn’t wonder. They often travel in packs.”

“And they look hungry enough to eat us up,” came from Fred, and the
tone of his voice showed that he felt anything but comfortable.

For the matter of that, all of the boys felt uneasy. Not only were they
without their clothing but their four guns lay within a hundred feet of
where the three leading wolves were standing.

The horses had also discovered the wolves and were now snorting wildly
and trying to break from their tethers. Charley Boy, Randy’s mount, was
particularly nervous, probably from his experience with the mountain
lion.

The wolves had been sniffing first in the direction of the boys’
clothing and then in the direction of the supplies and the horses. Now
they looked across the small arm of the lake at the boys themselves and
uttered a series of snarls, baring their teeth as they did so.

“Oh, if I only had a rifle or a heavy shotgun!” murmured the young
major.

“Can’t we heave some rocks at them?” suggested Fred.

“I don’t think it would do any good,” answered Randy. “We’re too far