The Rover Boys at School | Page 9

boy. But where did the thief go?"
"Came across the river about quarter of a mile above here."
"Then he had a boat?"
"Yes -- a craft painted brown, with a white stripe around her."
"That's Jerry Rodman's boat. He must have stolen her in the first place to cross to your side."
"More than likely."
"But where did he go after he crossed the river?"
"Into the bushes, I guess. You see, Tom went overboard from the tree and got struck, and I went to his assistance, so I didn't notice exactly. I want to get back now and follow the rascal."
"I'll go along."
"I wish you would."
"In that case I won't try to keep up with you," put in Tom. "My head is aching fit to split."
"Yes, you may as well take it easy," answered Dick. "But, say, why not, walk up to the river road and see if the rascal heads in this direction?"
"So I will, Dick. Will you go too, Sam?"
It was arranged that Sam should accompany and they set off immediately, while Dick and Joel Darrel ran along the river bank to where the rowboat had been abandoned.
Down where it was muddy it was easy to trace the tramp's footprints, and they led through a meadow and across a cornfield, coming out at a side road leading to the town of Oak Run.
"Well, where to next?" questioned the farmer, as he and Dick came to a halt.
The youth shook his head. "It's so dry here the footprints are lost," he returned slowly.
"That's true, Dick. But I reckon he went to Oak Run."
"Why?"
"Because he could catch a train from there which would take him miles away -- and I guess that is what he wants to do just about now."
"There is something in that."
"Besides, you know, the other end of the road ends up in the woods. He wouldn't go there."
"I had best start for Oak Run, then."
"I'll go along."
The distance was a mile and a half, and they thought they would have to walk it, but hardly had a dozen rods been covered than they heard the sound of wagon wheels, and a grocery turn-out and came into sight driven by a boy Joel Darrel knew well.
"This comes in just right," observed Darrel to Dick. "Hi there, Harry Oswald. Give us a lift to Oak Run, will you?"
"Certainly, Mr. Darrel," answered the grocery boy, and brought his store wagon to a stop. The farmer leaped to the seat, and Dick followed.
On the way Harry Oswald was made acquainted with the situation, and he drove along with all possible speed. They were just entering the outskirts of Oak Run when the whistle of a locomotive was heard.
"That's the down train for Middletown cried Joel Darrel. "Hurry up!"
The horse was whipped up, and they swept along to the depot at a speed which made the constable of the town shake his fist at Harry and threaten to arrest him for fast driving.
"Too late!"
The words came from Dick, and he was right. Before the depot was reached the long train had pulled out. Soon it was lost to sight in the distance.
The thief was on it; and his escape, for the time being, was now assured.
CHAPTER IV
THE LAST DAY AT THE FARM
"What does this mean?"
It was Gilbert Ponsberry, the chief constable of Oak Run, who spoke, as he strode up to the grocery wagon, all out of breath.
"Hullo, Ponsberry, you are just the man we want to see!" cried Joel Darrel. "Did you notice who boarded that train?"
"No; I wasn't at the depot. Anything wrong?"
"I have been robbed of a gold watch and chain," answered Dick, and related the particulars.
"Gee shoo! No wonder you drove fast," ejaculated the constable. "I would have done so myself. How did that fellow look?"
As well as he was able, Dick gave a description of the thief.
"I saw that tramp yesterday," said the constable, when he had finished. "He was in the depot, talking to a tall, thin man. I remember him well, for he and the other fellow were quarreling. I hung around rather expecting a fight. But it didn't come."
"You haven't seen the thief since yesterday?"
"No."
"You remember the tall, thin man he was with?"
"Oh, sure, for he had a scar on his chin that looked like a knife cut."
"Is he anywhere around?"
"I haven't seen him since. Let us take a walk around, and we can ask Ricks the station master about this."
"We had better ask Mr. Ricks first," said Dick.
All hands, even to the grocery boy, hunted up the station master, an elderly fellow who was well known for his unsociable disposition.
"Don't know anything about any thief," he snapped, after hearing the story. "I mind my own business."
"But he may have taken the train," pleaded Dick. It made his heart sink to think that the watch, that precious memento