The Rover Boys in Camp | Page 4

where the table
fairly groaned with good things.
"Gosh! this is a regular Christmas spread!" observed Tom, as he looked
the table over. "Tell you what, Aunt Martha, I'm going to be cast away
every week after this."
"Oh, Tom, don't speak of it! After this you must stay right here. Neither
your father nor your uncle nor myself will want to leave you out of
sight."
"Pooh! We can't stay home. But we'll be careful of our trips in the
future, you can be sure of that."

"Have you heard anything about Putnam Hall since we went away?"
asked Dick, during the meal.
"The academy opened again last week, Dick," answered his father. "We
received a circular letter from Captain Putnam. The scarlet fever scare
did not amount to much, for which the captain is very thankful."
"I sent him a telegram, stating we were safe," said Sam. "I knew he
would like to hear from us. The captain is a brick."
"The best ever," said Tom, with his mouth full of chicken.
"And ditto, Mr. Strong," put in Dick, referring to the head assistant at
the Hall.
"Exactly, Dick. But no more Jasper Grinders in mine," went on Tom,
referring to a tyrannical teacher who had caused them much trouble,
and who had been discharged from the academy, as already mentioned
in "The Rover Boys in the Mountains."
"Or Josiah Crabtrees," said Dick, referring to another teacher, who had
been made to leave Putnam Hall, and who had wanted to marry the
widow Stanhope, in an endeavor to get control of the money that was
coming to Dora. Crabtree's misdeeds had landed him in prison, where
he was likely to stay for some time to come.
While the meal was still in progress the boys began the recital of their
many adventures, and this recital was kept up until a late hour. It was
astonishing how much they had to tell, and how interesting it proved to
the listeners.
"You might make a book of it," said Anderson Rover. "It equals our
adventures in the jungles of Africa."
"I am going to write it out some day," answered Dick. "And, maybe, I'll
get the story printed. The trouble is, I can't end the tale properly."
"How is that, Dick?" asked his Uncle Randolph. "You were all saved.

Isn't that a proper ending for any book?"
"Yes, but what of the villain? Baxter didn't show himself, and that is no
ending at all. He should have fallen over a cliff, or been shot, or
something like that."
"And we should have married the three girls," put in fun-loving Tom.
"That would make the story even more complete."
"Well, things do not happen in real life as they do in story books," said
the parent. "It is likely you will never hear of Dan Baxter again. But we
may hear from his father."
"His father!" exclaimed the three youths in concert.
"Why, Arnold Baxter is in prison," added Sam.
"He was, up to five days ago, when they took him to the hospital to
undergo some sort of an operation. At the hospital the operation was
postponed for a day, and during the night he slipped away from the
institution and disappeared."
"Well, I never!" burst out Dick. "Isn't he the slick one, though! Just
when you think you've got him hard and fast, you haven't at all."
"Haven't they any trace of him?" asked Sam.
"None, so far as I have heard. There was a report that he had gone to
New York and taken passage on a ship bound for Liverpool, but at
present the ship is on the Atlantic, so the authorities can do nothing."
"I hope they catch him."
"We all hope that, Sam."
For a few days the three boys did nothing but take it easy. It was
pleasant weather, and they roamed around the farm in company with
their father and their uncle, or with Alexander Pop, the colored man of
work. As my old readers know, Pop had been in former days a waiter at

Putnam Hall, and Dick, Tom, and Sam had befriended him on more
than one occasion, for which he was extremely grateful.
"Yo' boys is jes' naturally fust-class heroes," said Aleck one day. "Even
if dem cannonballs had cum after yo', I don't t'ink da could have
cotched yo', no, sirree!"
"It's a pity you weren't along, Aleck," answered Tom.
"I can't say as to dat, Master Tom. I got 'bout all de hair-raisin' times I
wanted when we was in de jungles ob Africy. I'se only sorry ob one
t'ing."
"And what is that?"
"Dat you didn't jes' go an' frow dat Dan Baxter overboard from dat ship
de fust time yo' sot eyes on him. Suah as yo' am born