The Rover Boys at Colby Hall - Part 1
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Part 1

The Rover Boys at Colby Hall.

by Arthur M. Winfield.

INTRODUCTION

MY DEAR BOYS: This book is a complete story in itself, but forms the first volume in a line issued under the general t.i.tle, "The Second Rover Boys Series for Young Americans."

As mentioned in several of the other volumes of the first series, this line was started a number of years ago with the publication of "The Rover Boys at School," in which my readers were introduced to d.i.c.k, Tom, and Sam Rover, three wide-awake American lads. In that volume and in those which followed I gave the particulars of their adventures while attending Putnam Hall Military Academy, Brill College, and while on numerous outings, both in our own country and abroad.

The Rover boys were, of course, growing older; and, having met three young ladies very much to their liking, each married and settled down, as related in detail in the several volumes immediately preceding this.

They were well established in business; and in due course of time d.i.c.k Rover was blessed with a son, as was also Sam, while the fun-loving Tom became the proud possessor of a pair of twins who were as full of life as their father had ever been.

In this volume the younger Rover boys are old enough to go to boarding school. They are sent to Colby Hall Military Academy, presided over by an old friend and schoolmate of their fathers; and there they make both friends and enemies, and have numerous adventures.

In the beginning this chronicle of the younger Rovers, I wish to thank my numerous readers for all the kind things they have said about the other volumes in these series, and I trust that they will make just as good friends of Jack, Andy and Randy, and Fred as they did of d.i.c.k, Tom, and Sam Rover.

Affectionately and sincerely yours,

EDWARD STRATEMEYER.

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCING THE YOUNGER ROVERS

"For gracious sake! what's that racket?" exclaimed d.i.c.k Rover, as he threw down the newspaper he was reading and leaped to his feet.

"Sounds to me as if there was a battle royal going on," returned his younger brother, Sam, who was at a desk in the library of the old farmhouse, writing a letter.

"It's those boys!" exclaimed Tom Rover, as he tossed aside a copy of a comic paper which he had been looking over. "I'll wager they're up to some mischief again."

"Well, if they are your boys, Tom, you mustn't find fault with them,"

answered Sam Rover, with a twinkle in his eye. "If ever there were chips of the old block, your twins are It with a capital I."

"Humph!" snorted Tom Rover. "I don't think Andy and Randy are much ahead of your Fred when it comes to playing tricks, and I think d.i.c.k's Jack can hold up his end too."

"Never mind about that just now," broke in d.i.c.k Rover, hastily. "Let's go out and see what those kids are up to."

"All right. But don't be too severe with 'em," pleaded Tom Rover.

"Remember, boys will be boys."

"That's true, Tom. But we've got to take 'em in hand sooner or later,"

remonstrated his brother Sam. "If we don't, they'll grow up the wildest bunch ever known."

A number of cries of alarm and protest, mingled with fierce cheering, had reached the house from the garden just beyond the broad veranda. As the three Rover brothers hurried through the hallway and outside, the yelling and cheering were renewed. Then, just as Tom Rover stepped out on the veranda, there was a sudden swish and a stream of water from a garden hose caught him directly in the left ear.

"Hi! Hi! Stop that!" cried Tom Rover, doing his best to dodge the stream of water, which suddenly seemed to play all over the piazza.

"What do you mean by wetting me this way?"

"It wasn't my fault, Dad," came from a boy standing on the lawn, both hands clutching a rubber hose held, also, by another boy of about the same age. "It was Fred who turned the hose that way."

"Nothing of the sort! It was Randy twisted it that way trying to get it away from me," cried Fred Rover. "And he isn't going to do it!" and thereupon ensued a struggle between the two boys which caused the stream of water to fly over the garden first in one direction and then another.

In the meanwhile, not far away another stream of water was issuing from a hose held by two other lads. This, as well as the water from hose number one, had been directed towards the back of the garden, where an elderly white man and an equally elderly colored man were trying to shelter themselves behind a low hedge to keep from becoming drenched.

"Fo' de lan's' sake, Ma.s.sa d.i.c.k! won't you make dem boys stop?" cried out the old colored man, when he caught sight of d.i.c.k Rover hurrying out on the lawn. "Dem boys is jest nacherly tryin' to drown old Aleck Pop, dat's what dey is!"

"They didn't have no call to touch them hoses," came from the elderly white man. "I tol' 'em they mustn't muss with the water; but they won't mind nohow!" and thus speaking old Jack Ness held up his hands in comic despair.

"Why! we didn't know you were behind the hedge," came from one of the boys holding the second hose. "We thought you were both down at the barn."

"You can't make believe like that, Andy Rover!" returned the old man of all work, shaking his head vigorously. "You knowed I was goin' to trim up this hedge a bit and that Aleck was goin' to help me."

"You boys let up with this nonsense," came sternly from Tom Rover. He turned to face one of his twins. "Randy, I ought to give you a thrashing for wetting me like this."

"Don't Fred get half the thrashing?" questioned Randy Rover, quizzically, for he could readily see that his parent was not as angry as his words seemed to imply. "I don't like to be selfish, you know. He can have more than his share if he wants it."

"You'll take your own thrashings--I don't want 'em," broke in his cousin Fred quickly.

"Jack," cried d.i.c.k Rover, turning to his son, "turn that water off at once."

"I don't know where to turn it off. I didn't turn it on," answered Jack Rover, the oldest of the four boys who had been fooling.

"I'll turn it off and fix it so they can't turn it on ag'in," came from old Jack Ness, and away hobbled the man of all work.

"I think it's a shame for you boys to drench old Ness and Aleck," was Sam Rover's sober comment. "Both of them might catch cold or get rheumatism."

"We didn't start to do anything like that, Dad," answered Fred Rover.

"We were going to have a little fight between ourselves, playing rival firemen. We aimed the water at the hedge, and we didn't see Ness and Aleck until they let out a yell."

"But I saw two of you playing the water in that direction," cried d.i.c.k Rover. "You were one of them, Jack."

"Oh, well, Dad, what was the harm after they were all wet?" pleaded his son. "They'd have to change their clothing anyway."

"That's just it," added Andy Rover quickly, with his eyes twinkling from merriment. "A little more water won't hurt a person when he's already soaked. It's just like spoiling a rotten egg--it can't be done," and at this reply, both d.i.c.k Rover and his brother, the fun-loving Tom, had to turn away their faces to hide their amus.e.m.e.nt.

Nevertheless, d.i.c.k sobered his face almost instantly as he answered:

"Well, these pranks around the farm have got to stop. You'll have your grandfather and Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha all upset, not to say anything about your sisters and your mothers. It's a fortunate thing that they went down to the town to do some shopping. Otherwise I think all of you would be in for quite some punishment."

"Oh! Then you're not going to punish us, are you?" broke in Randy Rover quickly. "That's fine! I knew you wouldn't mind our having a little fun."

"Don't be so fast, young man," returned his father. "Your Uncle d.i.c.k may be too lenient. I am rather of the opinion that you and your brother, if not your cousins, have got to be taken in hand."

"Oh, please, Ma.s.sa Tom, don' go fo' to punish 'em," burst out old Aleck Pop. "I--I don't s'pose dey meant any great ha'm, even do dey did t'row dat stream of wattah right in dis yere c.o.o.n's mouf;" and he smiled broadly, showing a row of ivories, rather the worse for wear.