The Rover Boys in Alaska.

by Arthur M. Winfield.

INTRODUCTION

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

As I have mentioned in some of the other volumes, this line was started with the publication of "The Rover Boys at School," "On the Ocean," and "In the Jungle." The books were so well received that they were followed, year after year, by the publication of "The Rover Boys Out West," "On the Great Lakes," "In Camp," "On Land and Sea," "On the River," "On the Plains," "In Southern Waters," "On the Farm," "On Treasure Isle," "At College," "Down East," "In the Air," and then "In New York," where we last met the lads.

The boys are growing older--as all boys do--and d.i.c.k is married, and helping his father in business. In the present story Sam and Tom return to college, until something quite out of the ordinary occurs and the fun-loving Tom disappears most mysteriously. Sam and d.i.c.k go in search of their brother, and the trail leads them to far-away Alaska, where they encounter many perils in the fields of ice and snow.

The publishers a.s.sure me that by the end of the present year the total of sales on this series of books will have reached _one million and a half copies_! This is, to me, truly amazing, and I cannot help but feel profoundly grateful to all the boys and girls, and their parents, who have taken such an interest in my stories. I trust with all my heart that the reading of the books will do the young folks good.

Affectionately and sincerely yours,

EDWARD STRATEMEYER

THE ROVER BOYS IN ALASKA

CHAPTER I

TOM AND SAM

"Well, here we are again, Tom, down to the grind of college life."

"That's right, Sam. Not so much fun as attending a wedding, is it?"

And Tom Rover grinned broadly at his brother.

"We can't expect to go to weddings all the time," returned Sam Rover, a grin showing on his own face. "Wonder how d.i.c.k and Dora are making out," he mused.

"Oh, fine, you can be sure of that. Dora is just the girl for d.i.c.k."

"How do you like being back here, Tom?" and the youngest Rover looked anxiously at his brother.

Tom heaved a deep sigh before replying.

"To tell the truth, Sam, I wish I had stayed home a bit longer," he said slowly. "My head isn't just as clear as it might be. That whack Pelter gave me with that footstool was an awful one."

"It certainly was, and it's a wonder it didn't split your skull open.

Maybe you'd better go back home for a rest."

"Oh, no, it isn't as bad as that. Sometimes I feel a bit dizzy, that's all. But I guess that will wear away, sooner or later. You see, I've been studying hard the last three days, trying to make up for lost time, and that is what's done it. I think I'll take it a bit easier after this, until I feel more like myself."

"Don't you think you had better see a doctor?"

"No, I've had the doctor fussing over me until I am tired of it. What I need is some fun, Sam. Can't you think of something? Whenever I try to concoct some sort of a joke it makes my head ache," and poor Tom, who loved to play pranks as much as ever, heaved another sigh.

"Let us take a long walk this afternoon, Tom. Maybe that will do your head some good. We can take Songbird and some of the others along."

"All right; anything to get out of the greasy grind of studying. My!

don't I wish I was in d.i.c.k's place and didn't have to go to college any more!"

"Well, d.i.c.k's got his hands full with Dad's business. Those brokers left things in a perfect mess."

"I know it. But d.i.c.k will straighten things out--he's got a head for just that sort of thing." Tom took up a text book, glanced at it for a moment, and then threw it on the table. "No use, I can't study any more to-day. I'm going out on the campus. You come as soon as you are done and we'll take that walk."

"All right. Will you tell Songbird and whoever else you want to go along?"

"Yes," answered Tom, and without further words he took up his cap, heaved another deep sigh, and left the room. Sam watched his brother pa.s.s down the corridor of the college building and noted that he placed his hand to the back of his head and kept it there for some time.

"Poor Tom!" murmured the youngest Rover, as he turned again to the lesson he had been studying. "He tries to keep up a brave front, but that crack he got on the head some weeks ago was a worse one than most folks imagine. I'm thinking he ought to be home and under the doctor's care instead of trying to rack his brains making up lessons he missed while we were away."

Tom pa.s.sed along the corridor until he had turned a corner and was out of sight of me room he and Sam occupied. Then he looked around to make certain that n.o.body was observing him. Both of his hands went up to the back of his head and he clenched his teeth hard.

"What is the matter with this old head of mine!" he murmured.

"Sometimes I feel as if I had a regular windmill inside of it. And when I try to study it gets to be a regular blank. Something is wrong, that's certain. What is it?"

He stood in the corner of the corridor for several minutes, trying to pull himself together, mentally and physically. His face was still somewhat pale, from the suffering he had undergone, since the time a wooden footstool hurled by an enemy had hit him and knocked him unconscious.

"Rats! this won't do!" he finally exclaimed, and shaking himself, he hurried out of the building and on to the broad, velvety college campus.

Students were walking in various directions, going to, or coming from, cla.s.ses and lectures. Many hailed him and he called out in return, or waved his hand. The Rover boys had a host of friends at Brill.

Presently Tom saw a tall, slim young man coming up, dressed in a light, checked suit, and wearing pointed patent-leather ties and a rose-colored cap. In the b.u.t.tonhole of the student was a large carnation. Under his arm the approaching one carried half a dozen text books.

The face of the fun-loving Rover lighted up and for the time being the pain in his head was forgotten. His hand went down in a pocket, to feel for something, and then came forth again. Then he stepped forward and crooked out his elbow.

The other student was looking to one side as he came forward and he did not notice the elbow in his way. The elbow caught him in the ribs, causing him to give a grunt, and the armful of books were scattered on the walk.

"My gracious me!" gasped the stylishly-dressed youth. "What did you do that for, Tom Rover?"

"Sorry, Tubblets," answered Tom, making as sober a face as possible.

"I didn't know you wanted the whole walk."

"You did that on purpose, Tom Rover, you know you did!"

"Did what on purpose, Tubby?"

"How many times must I tell you that my name is not Tubby or Tubblets.

It is William Philander Tubbs, and I want you to call me by my right name after this."

"Very well, Mr. W. P. Washbasin--I mean Tubbs. I'll not forget again,"

and Tom made a low bow.