The Rover Boys on the River - Part 31
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Part 31

"Neither did I. I see there is a big brick wall around this yard. If they came in here they must have gone into this shed or into the factory itself."

"That's it, d.i.c.k," said Tom. He pushed open the door to the shed. "I'm going to investigate."

"So am I," said both of the others.

In the shed all was dark and soon Sam stumbled over some blocks of wood and fell headlong.

"Confound the darkness," he muttered. "We ought to have brought a light."

"I've got one," answered d.i.c.k, and feeling in his pocket he produced one of the new-style electric pocket lights. He pushed the b.u.t.ton and instantly the light flashed out, as from a bull's-eye lantern.

"Hurrah, that's a good thing!" cried Tom. "By the way, isn't it queer there is no watchman here?"

"Maybe the night watchman hasn't got around yet," answered d.i.c.k, and struck the truth.

They began to move around the shed, much to the alarm of both Dan Baxter and Lew Flapp.

"I don't see any trace--" began d.i.c.k, when of a sudden the light landed fairly and squarely on Baxter's face. Then it shifted to the face of Lew Flapp.

"The old Harry take you, d.i.c.k Rover!" yelled Baxter, in a sudden rage, and throwing his whole weight against the pile of boards on which the eldest Rover was standing, he caused it to go over, hurling d.i.c.k flat on his back on the floor.

"d.i.c.k, are you hurt?" called out Tom. The electric light had been broken, and all was pitch-dark.

"I--I guess--not," answered d.i.c.k. "But it was a close shave."

"They are getting out!" came from Sam, as he heard a scuffling of feet.

"No--they are going into the factory," shouted Tom. "Stop, Baxter! Stop, Flapp! If you don't--Oh!"

Tom's cry came to a sudden end, for without warning a billet of wood struck him fairly on top of the head and he went down as if shot.

By this time d.i.c.k was on his feet.

"What's up, Tom?"

"I--I--oh, my head?"

"Did somebody hit you?"

"Yes."

Sam was running after Baxter and Flapp. But they reached the factory first and banged the door full in the face of the youngest Rover.

"Open that door, Dan Baxter!" called out Sam.

"All right!" was the sudden reply, and open flew the door. Then down on poor Sam's head came a heavy billet of wood and he pitched backward unconscious. Then the door was closed once more and locked from the inside.

CHAPTER XX

DAYS OF PLEASURE

"Sam! Sam! Speak to us!"

It was d.i.c.k who uttered the words, as he knelt beside his youngest brother and caught his hands. Tom was just staggering up.

But Sam was past speaking, and made no reply.

"What's the matter, d.i.c.k?" asked Tom.

"Poor Sam is knocked out completely. I don't know but what they have killed him."

"Oh, don't say that!"

"Have you got a match? I've lost that electric pocket light."

"Yes." Tom struck the match and lit a bit of pine wood that was handy, and found the light. "d.i.c.k, don't tell me he is dead."

"Oh!" came in a deep gasp from poor Sam, and he gave a shiver from head to feet.

"He isn't dead, but they must have hit him a terrible blow. Let us carry him out into the open air."

This they did, and laid the youngest Rover on some boards. Here he presently opened his eyes and stared about him.

"Don't--don't hit me again!" he pleaded, vacantly.

"They shan't hit you again, Sam," answered d.i.c.k, tenderly. He felt of his brother's head. On top was a lump, from which the blood was flowing.

"This is the worst yet," said Tom. "What had we best do next?"

"Call a policeman, if you can find any."

"That's rather a hard thing to do around here."

However, Tom ran off, and while he was gone d.i.c.k did what little he could to make Sam comfortable. At last the youngest Rover opened his eyes again and struggled to sit up.

"Where--where are they, d.i.c.k?"

"Gone into the factory."

"Oh, my head!"

"It was a wicked blow, Sam. But keep still if your head hurts."

When Tom came back he was accompanied by a watchman from a neighboring yard and presently they were joined by the watchman of the box factory, who had been to a corner groggery, getting a drink.