The Rover Boys on the Great Lakes | Page 2

"Yes, Sam, I've been watching it for ten minutes. I think we are in for a
storm."
"Exactly my idea, and I shouldn't be surprised if it proved a heavy one,

too. How far are we from shore?"
"Not over three miles, to my reckoning."
"Perhaps we had better turn back," and Sam Rover, the youngest of the
three Rover brothers, shook his head doubtfully.
"Oh, I reckon we'll be safe enough," responded Dick Rover, who was
several years older. "I know more about sailing a yacht than I did when
we followed up the Baxters on the Atlantic Ocean."
"The poor Baxters!" put in Tom Rover, who stood close by, also
watching the wind, and the heavy clouds rolling up from the westward.
"Who ever supposed that they would be buried alive in that landslide
on the mountain in Colorado?"
"It was a terrible fate," came, with a shudder, from Dick Rover. "But,
nevertheless, I am glad we are rid of those rascals. They caused father
and us trouble enough, goodness knows."
"And they brought trouble enough to Dora Stanhope and her mother,
too," observed Sam. "By the way, Dick, weren't Dora and her mother
going to take a trip on these lakes this summer?"
"Of course Dora was," put in Tom, with a sly wink. "If she wasn't, what
do you suppose would bring Dick here? He got a letter only last
week--"
"Oh, stow it, Tom!" cried the elder Rover, his face growing red. "You
wanted to take a trip on the Great Lakes as much as anybody--said you
wouldn't like anything better, and told all the fellows at Putnam Hall so,
too."
"Well, I don't know as I would like anything better," rattled on Tom.
"The Swallow seems to be a first-class craft, and I've no doubt but what
we'll see lots to interest us in this trip from Buffalo to Lake Superior."
"When are the Stanhopes coming out?" asked Sam.

"I can't say, exactly," replied Dick. "I expect another letter from them
when we reach Cleveland. In the last letter Dora said her mother was
not feeling as well as before."
"A trip on the lakes ought to do her good."
"Wonder if old Josiah Crabtree has been bothering her with his
attentions?" came from Tom. "Gosh! how anxious he was to marry her
and get hold of the money she is holding in trust for Dora."
"Crabtree's term of imprisonment ran out only last week, Tom. He
couldn't annoy her while he was in jail."
"He ought to have been given five years for the way he used them, and
us. It's strange what an influence he had over Mrs. Stanhope."
"He's something of a hypnotist, and she seems to be just the right kind
of a subject for him. His coming from prison is one reason why Dora
wanted to get her mother away. She isn't going to let outsiders know of
the trip, so old Crabtree won't know where they are."
"He'll find out, if he can," remarked Sam. "He always was a nosy old
chap."
"If he tries any game on, I'll settle him in short order," came from Dick,
with determination. "We've put up with enough from him in the past,
and I don't intend to give him any leeway in the future."
"Leeway?" burst out Tom. "Not a foot! Not an inch! I haven't forgotten
how he treated me when he was a teacher at Putnam Hall. I wonder that
Captain Putnam didn't kick him out long before he was made to go."
A sudden rush of wind cut the conversation short at this point, sending
the Swallow bowling along merrily. The clouds were increasing rapidly,
and Dick ordered that all the sails be closely reefed.
"We don't want to lose our mast," he observed.
"We don't want to lose anything," answered Sam. "For my part, I wish

we were back in Buffalo harbor."
"Oh! we'll run along all right," came from Tom. "Don't get scared
before you are hurt." He looked at his watch. "Half-past five! I didn't
think it was so late."
"It will be dark before long," said Dick. "Perhaps the blow will go
down with the setting of the sun."
"We'll never know when the sun sets--excepting by the almanac,"
murmured Sam. "It's as black as ink already, over to the westward."
To keep up his courage Tom Rover began to whistle, but soon the
sound was drowned out by the high piping of the wind, as it tore over
the deck and through the rigging of the Swallow. They were certainly in
for a storm, and a heavy one at that.
It was the middle of July, and the Rover boys had journeyed from
Valley Brook, their country home, to Buffalo, a week before, for a
six-weeks'