The Rover Boys in Camp | Page 3

When all were cast away on a deserted island, Dan Baxter joined some mutineers among the sailors, and there was a fight which threatened to end seriously for our friends. But as luck would have it, a United States warship hove into sight, and from that moment the boys and girls, and the friends, who had stuck to them through thick and thin, were safe.
Before the warship left the island a search was made for Dan Baxter and for those who had mutinied with him. But the bully and his evil-minded followers kept out of sight, and so they were left behind to shift for themselves.
"Do you think that we will ever see Dan Baxter again?" Sam had questioned.
"I hardly think so," had been Dick's reply. But in this surmise the elder Rover boy was mistaken, as later events will prove.
The journey across the Pacific to San Francisco was accomplished without incident. As soon as the Golden Gate was reached the boys, and also the girls, sent telegrams to their folks, telling them that all was well.
Mrs. Stanhope was staying at Santa Barbara for her health. All of the girls had been stopping with her, and now it was decided that Dora, Nellie, and Grace should go to her again.
"It's too bad we must part," Dick had said, as he squeezed Dora's hand. "But you are coming East soon, aren't you?"
"In a month or two, yes. And what will you do?"
"Go back to Putnam Hall most likely--if the scarlet fever scare is over."
"Then we'll be likely to see you again before long," and Dora smiled her pleasure.
"It will be like old times to get back to the Hall again," Sam had put in. "But first, I want to go home and see the folks."
"Right you are," had come from Tom. "I reckon they are dead anxious to see us, too."
And so they had parted, with tight hand-squeezing and bright smiles that meant a good deal. One train had taken the girls southward to Santa Barbara, and another had taken the boys eastward to Denver and to Chicago. At the latter city the lads had made a quick change, and twenty-six hours later found them at Oak Run, and in the carriage for the farm.
CHAPTER II
NEWS OF INTEREST
"My boys! my boys!"
Such was the cry given by Anderson Rover, when he caught sight of the occupants of the carriage, as the turnout swept up to the piazza of the comfortable farm home.
"Home again! Home again Safe from a foreign shore!"
sang out Tom, and leaping to the ground, he caught his father around the shoulders. "Aren't you glad to see us, father?" he went on.
"Glad doesn't express it, Tom," replied the fond parent, as he embraced first one and then another. "My heart is overflowing with joy, and I thank God that you have returned unharmed, after having passed through so many grave perils. How brown all of you look!"
"Tanned by the tropical sun," answered Sam. "Oh, here is Aunt Martha, and Uncle Randolph!"
"Sam!" burst out the motherly aunt, as she kissed him. "Oh, how you must have suffered on that lonely island!" And then she kissed the others.
"We've certainly had our fill of adventures," came from Dick, who was shaking hands with his Uncle Randolph. "And more than once we thought we should never see Valley Brook farm again."
"We were real Robinson Crusoes," went on Sam. "And the girls were Robinson Crusoes, too."
"Are the girls well?" questioned Mrs. Rover.
"Very well, auntie. If they hadn't been we shouldn't have parted with them in San Francisco. They went back to Santa Barbara to finish their vacation."
"I see. Well, it certainly was a wonderful trip. You'll have to tell us all the particulars this evening. I suppose you are as hungry as bears just now. Tom is, I'm sure."
"Oh, Aunt Martha, I see you haven't forgotten my failing," piped in the youth mentioned, with a twinkle in his eye. "And do I get pie for dinner?"
"Yes, Tom, and all you care to eat, too. We are going to make your home-coming a holiday."
"Good!"
They were soon in the house, every nook and corner of which was so familiar to them. They rushed up to their rooms, and, after a brushing and a washing up, came down to the big dining room, 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