When the hubbub downstairs started the four Rover boys were up in their adjoining bedrooms partly undressed and in the midst of a couple of impromptu boxing matches, one taking place between Andy and Jack and the other between Randy and Fred.

"There, my boy, how do you like that?" cried Andy, as, dancing around, he managed to land a slapping blow on Jack's bare shoulder.

"Fine, child! fine!" retorted young Jack. "But not half as good as this," he continued, and, with a sudden spring, he landed one blow on Andy's chest and another on his shoulder which sent Tom's son staggering half-way across the bed.

"Hurrah! one man down! Now for the next!" cried Fred, and managed to land several blows in quick succession on Randy's shoulder.

But then the fun-loving twin came at him with a rush, sending him into a corner and on to a little table containing a number of books. As Fred went down the table did likewise and the books fell all over him.

"Whoop!" roared Randy in his delight. "Down and buried!"

"But not dead," retorted Fred, promptly, and catching up several of the books he hurled them in quick succession at his opponent. One in particular caught Randy in the stomach, and down he sat with a suddenness that jarred the floor.

"Say!" exclaimed Jack, suddenly, and held up his hand, "this won't do at all. The folks downstairs will think we're pulling the house down over their ears. We'll have to slow up a bit. You know what our fathers said a little while ago."

"All right," returned Andy, promptly, as he arose to his feet. "After this we'll be as quiet as a thunder storm in a moving picture drama."

"That's the talk! Silence it is!" cried his twin; and then to let off a little extra steam he silently turned a cart-wheel across the floor, after which he proceeded with his toilet making.

The boys were still minus their collars and ties when they suddenly realized that something unusual was taking place downstairs. They had closed the bedroom doors, but now all of them rushed out into the hallway.

"Great watermelons!" groaned Randy, and turned slightly pale. "I forgot all about 'em!"

"About what?" chimed in Jack.

"You don't mean the mice?" demanded Andy.

"Yes, I do!"

"What mice?" questioned Fred.

"The mice I caught under the flooring of the old wagon house yesterday," answered Randy.

"I thought you put them in a cage and drowned them in the brook."

"I was going to do that, but then I changed my mind and put 'em in a couple of boxes. I thought maybe I might have a chance to train 'em--just like those mice we once saw in a show."

"Where did you put those boxes?" demanded Andy, quickly.

"I--I--didn't know exactly what to do with 'em, so--I--I--put 'em on the shelf in the pantry downstairs," faltered the twin.

"Great catfish, Randy! you've got us into a fine mess!" broke in Fred.

"Coming right on top of that trouble with the water-hose!" added Jack, ruefully.

After that there was a moment of silence, the four cousins gazing at each other uncertainly. Then Randy drew a long breath.

"Well, I'm going downstairs to see what's doing," he declared. "If I've got to suffer for this, I might as well see the fun."

"I'm going down, too," responded his twin, and side by side they ran down the stairs, with Jack and Fred close at their heels.

Perhaps it was poetic justice that Randy, who had been the cause of this commotion, should suffer the worst for it. Hardly had he put his foot in the lower hallway of the farmhouse when a mouse, scampering from a nearby doorway, made directly for him. The boy made a wild jump to step on the rodent, missed his footing, and came down flat on his back. He landed directly at the foot of the stairs, and his brother, being unable to stop, fell on top of him.

"Hi! Get off of me!" gasped the unfortunate youth. "What do you want to do--crack my head open?"

"Next time you go down, give a fellow warning," retorted his brother, scrambling to his feet; and then the two boys, with Jack and Fred, entered the sitting-room, doing this just as their fathers came in from the direction of the kitchen and just when old Uncle Randolph made his unfortunate attack on the fish-globe.

"h.e.l.lo! look at the fish on the floor," exclaimed Jack. "What's the matter, Grandfather? Did the mice upset the globe?"

"No. I did that, trying to hit one of the pesky creatures," explained old Uncle Randolph. "We must kill them some way or they'll get all over the house, and then none of us will have any peace."

"I wouldn't care for a piece of mouse, anyway," remarked Andy, but in such a low tone that none of the older folks heard him.

"Everybody get a stick and go at those mice," commanded d.i.c.k Rover, and looked at the boys so sternly they all began to feel uncomfortable.

"We've got either to kill them or drive them out of the house, otherwise the lady folks won't be able to sleep to-night."

"I'll get a poker and kill as many of 'em as I can," cried Randy, and ran out into the kitchen to do as he had mentioned.

The other boys, as well as their fathers, armed themselves with canes, umbrellas, and brooms, and for the next fifteen minutes there was a rapid and thorough search for all of the rodents. Several were driven outside through the open doors, while others were caught and slaughtered in various parts of the kitchen, the pantry, and the rooms adjoining. Then the goldfish were gathered up and put into another bowl of water and the bits of broken gla.s.s were removed.

"I'm awfully sorry, Uncle Randy, you broke the fish-globe," said Randy, contritely, "but I'm glad you saved the fish."

"Look here, young man, I want to talk to you--and to you, too!" cried Tom, sharply, and without more ado caught each twin by the arm and marched them into the library.

"Wow! I'm afraid Andy and Randy are in for it now," whispered Fred to Jack.

"Well, Randy certainly had no right to put those mice in the pantry,"

answered his cousin. "Just the same, I hope Uncle Tom isn't too severe with 'em."

"I don't see why Andy should be punished for this."

"Oh, they always stick together. You know that as well as I do."

"So I do. Isn't it wonderful how each is willing to share the blame with the other?" added Fred, with deep admiration.

Once in the library, Tom Rover shut the doors tightly and then faced his twin sons.

"Now then, I want the truth about this," he commenced sternly. "Where did those mice come from?"

"They came from under the flooring of the old wagon house," answered Randy. "I caught them there when the carpenters tore up the floor to put down the new one."

"And where did you put them?"

"I put 'em in a--er--a couple of boxes."

"Randy was going to keep the mice and try to teach 'em to do tricks, just the same as those mice we once saw in a vaudeville show," put in Andy, quickly, to do what he could to shield his brother.

"More tricks, eh?" was Tom's dry comment. "It seems to me that it is nothing but tricks lately. I suppose you placed the boxes in the pantry just so the mice wouldn't catch cold, didn't you?" he went on quizzically.