"Dat dar Baxter am a rascal of de fust water," was Aleck's comment. "He deserbes to be shot full ob holes, an' I am de boy to do dat same, if only I gets de chance."

Jack Ness was closely questioned, and he described the spot where he had last seen the unwelcome midnight visitor.

"He had a bag of something over his shoulder," he declared.

"Most likely the stuff taken from the house," declared d.i.c.k.

The party crossed the garden patch and then took to the path which ran down toward the river.

Here all was intensely dark, although it had stopped raining, and the wind was trying its best to scatter the heavy clouds that obscured the stars.

"Not a thing to see," observed Randolph Rover. "We may as well go back."

"Let us scatter and make a search," came from d.i.c.k, and his idea was carried out. But though they tramped the locality for a good half hour the pursuit of Arnold Baxter proved useless.

"He is probably making good use of his time," was Tom's comment. "He knew we would be after him hot-footed, just as soon as we heard of his being here."

"I'm going to drive over to the railroad station," said d.i.c.k. "He may hang around and get aboard of the first morning train."

"Take me along with you," said Sam, and d.i.c.k agreed. They got Aleck to drive them and took the fastest team the stable afforded.

But at the depot all was dark and deserted, and if Arnold Baxter was anywhere near he took good care not to show himself, nor was anything seen of him in Oak Run later on.

"He has left the neighborhood by some other way," said Randolph Rover, and his surmise was correct.

When the boys reached home again they found their parent sitting up in an easy-chair, with his forehead still bandaged. The blows he had received were painful, but by no means serious, and when the doctor was called in he said the patient would speedily recover.

"But you had a narrow escape," said the doctor. "Had you been struck a little harder your skull might have been broken."

"Well, I don't think Arnold Baxter would have cared if he had broken my skull," answered Anderson Rover. "He is a thoroughly bad man."

It was broad daylight before a complete examination of the house was made, and then it was learned that Baxter had run away with some silver knives, forks, and spoons, some gold napkin rings, a silver and gold water pitcher, and half a dozen similar articles. From the desk he had taken a pocketbook containing three hundred dollars in cash, and from Anderson Rover's person his watch and chain, and a diamond stud. He had also tried to rob the unconscious man of his diamond ring, but as the ring would not come off had pried out the stone and taken that.

"He is at his old tricks again," said d.i.c.k. "Evidently his term in prison has done him no good."

"Guess it has made him worse," added Sam. "Oh, how I would like to lay my hands on him!" And Tom said the same.

The authorities were notified, including the sheriff of the county, and later still Anderson Rover hired a New York detective to take up the case. But it was of no avail. Arnold Baxter did not show himself, and not a trace of him was to be found anywhere.

"I shouldn't be surprised if he disguised himself as soon as he got away from here," remarked Tom. "He could easily put on a false mustache, and a wig would fit capitally over that almost bald pate of his."

"But where would he get the mustache and wig, Tom?" asked d.i.c.k.

"He may have bought them before he came here. I have heard that some robbers prepare themselves for all sorts of emergencies. Only last week I was reading about a fellow who went to a ball, and between the dances went out and robbed a gentleman on the street of his watch. When he was arrested, he tried to prove that he hadn't been outside of the ballroom all night, and it was by the merest accident that the authorities found out his story wasn't true."

"Tom is right; some criminals are very shrewd," said his father. "And I fancy Arnold Baxter is about as slick as any of them."

"Well, I hope we run across him some day," said d.i.c.k.

With so much to occupy their minds the days flew by swiftly, and almost before they knew it Monday was at hand, and the three boys set out to return once more to Putnam Hall.

CHAPTER V

ON THE WAY TO PUTNAM HALL

The idea of going back to dear old Putnam Hall, with all of its pleasant memories, filled Tom with good humor, and he was fairly bubbling over on the train which carried the boys to Ithaca, where they were to take a steamer up Cayuga Lake to Cedarville, the nearest village to the academy.

"Makes me feel as I did the first time we went to the Hall," he declared. "Don't you remember that trip, and the fun we had with Peleg Snuggers, the wagon man?" and then he burst out singing:

"Putnam Hall's the place for me!

Tra-la-lee! Tra-la-lee!

Putnam Hall's the place for me!

The best old school I know!"

"You'll have the conductor putting you off, the next thing you know,"

remarked Sam.

"Putting me off? Never!" cried Tom. "He knows that academy boys own privileges that other pa.s.sengers do not possess. He can't cork me up. I defy him!"

"Wonder if we'll meet any of the other fellows," mused d.i.c.k.

He had hardly spoken when the train stopped at a junction, and two other lads got aboard and came down the aisle. One was tall and handsome, and the other stout and with a round, chubby face beaming with good humor.

"Larry Colby!" cried d.i.c.k, leaping up and grasping the tall boy's hand.

"I'm awfully glad to meet you. Returning to the Hall, of course?"

"Yes," was the answer from the Rover boys' old chum. "Isn't it odd that I should be thinking of you just as we meet?" and he shook hands.

"Hullo, if it ton't peen dem Rofer brudders alretty," cried the round-faced lad, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I d.i.n.k me you vos left der Hall for goot, yah!"

"Hans Mueller!" came from Sam. "Then you are going back, too? I thought you had scarlet fever?"

"Not much I ain't," said the German youth. "I vos eat too much of dem puckveat cakes alretty, und dot makes mine face preak owid, put I ain't got no scarlet fefers, nein! How you vos alretty annahow?" And he shook hands as Larry had done.

"I can hardly believe your story about being cast away on an island in the Pacific," said Larry.

"Your letter read like a fairy tale. If you tell the fellows they'll think you are drawing the long bow."

"Yes, Larry vos told me somedings apoud dot," broke in Hans. "You vos regular Robinson Roosters," he said.

"Great Scott! Robinson Roosters!" yelled Tom, bursting out into a fit of laughter. "Boys, we are discovered at last."

"Well, if you are, you needn't crow over it," came from Larry.

"Roosters and crowing! Oh, Larry, I didn't think you'd begin to pun so early," put in Sam.