Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: "TOM! TOM! STOP!" SCREAMED DICK AND SAM IN UNISON. _The
Rover Boys in Alaska._]
THE ROVER BOYS IN ALASKA
OR
_LOST IN THE FIELDS OF ICE_
BY
ARTHUR M. WINFIELD
(Edward Stratemeyer)
AUTHOR OF THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL, THE
ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN, THE PUTNAM
HALL SERIES, ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED_
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
BOOKS BY ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer)
THE FIRST ROVER BOYS SERIES
THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL
THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN
THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE
THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST
THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES
THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS
THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP
THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA
THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER
THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS
THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS
THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM
THE ROVER BOYS ON TREASURE ISLE
THE ROVER BOYS AT COLLEGE
THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST
THE ROVER BOYS IN THE AIR
THE ROVER BOYS IN NEW YORK
THE ROVER BOYS IN ALASKA
THE ROVER BOYS IN BUSINESS
THE ROVER BOYS ON A TOUR
THE SECOND ROVER BOYS SERIES
THE ROVER BOYS AT COLBY HALL
THE PUTNAM HALL SERIES
THE PUTNAM HALL CADETS
THE PUTNAM HALL RIVALS
THE PUTNAM HALL CHAMPIONS
THE PUTNAM HALL REBELLION
THE PUTNAM HALL ENCAMPMENT
THE PUTNAM HALL MYSTERY
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, New York
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY
EDWARD STRATEMEYER
_The Rover Boys in Alaska_
INTRODUCTION
MY DEAR BOYS: This book is a complete story in itself, but forms the
eighteenth volume in a line issued under the general title 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 Dick 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 Dick 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 assure 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
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. TOM AND SAM
II. SOMETHING ABOUT THE PAST
III. TOM'S JOKE
IV. THE OLD WELL HOLE
V. TOM'S QUEER ACTIONS
VI. BOYS AND GIRLS
VII. COLLEGE DAYS
VIII. THE JOKE ON WILLIAM PHILANDER
IX. WILLIAM PHILANDER TURNS THE TABLES
X. IN WHICH TOM DISAPPEARS
XI. WHAT THE GIRLS KNEW
XII. AT HIRAM DUFF'S COTTAGE
XIII. THE WESTERN EXPRESS
XIV. DICK AND SAM IN CHICAGO
XV. BOUND WEST
XVI. THE ROVER BOYS IN SEATTLE
XVII. OFF FOR ALASKA
XVIII. AT JUNEAU AND SKAGWAY
XIX. FROM ONE CLUE TO ANOTHER
XX. IN THE MOUNTAINS OF ALASKA
XXI. AT THE FOOT OF THE CLIFF
XXII. IKE FURNER'S CAMP
XXIII. A SLIDE DOWN THE MOUNTAIN SIDE
XXIV. IN WHICH TOM IS FOUND
XXV. THE SHELTER UNDER THE CLIFF
XXVI. IN THE GRIP OF THE TORNADO
XXVII. LOST IN THE FIELDS OF ICE
XXVIII. AT TONY BINGS'S CABIN
XXIX. TOM'S WILD RIDE
XXX. GOOD-BYE TO ALASKA--CONCLUSION
ILLUSTRATIONS
"TOM! TOM! STOP!" SCREAMED DICK AND SAM IN UNISON. . . . _Frontispiece_
"THAT MUST SURELY HAVE BEEN TAKEN IN ALASKA," SAID SAM.
"HERE, HOLD MY TORCH," SAID DICK.
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 Dick and Dora are making
out," he mused.
"Oh, fine, you can be sure of that. Dora is just the girl for Dick."
"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 Dick's place and didn't have to go to college any
more!"
"Well, Dick's got his hands full with Dad's business. Those brokers
left things in a perfect mess."
"I know it. But Dick 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
pass 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 passed 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 nobody 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,
classes 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 buttonhole 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.
"And I don't want you to knock my books out of my arm again," went on
William Philander, drawing himself up disdainfully.
"Your books, Willie?"
"Yes, my books," came wrathfully from the dudish student "And don't you
dare to call me Willie. My name is----"
"Oh, yes, I remember now, Philugger."
"It's not Philugger, either. It is Wil----"
"Sure, I know, Philliam Tubbander Williams. Sorry I forgot before."
And Tom looked truly sorrowful.
"Oh, you are simply horrid, that's what you are!" declared the
stylishly-dressed student, in despair. "And my books are all covered
with dirt!"
"I beg a million pardons," cried Tom, and started to pick the books up,
one after another. As he did this one hand went again into that pocket
before mentioned and, on the sly, he inserted a printed sheet of paper
into each book. "Now you are all fixed, Tubbly," he added. "And you
can run along to school like a nice little boy. But wait a moment till
I fix your collar," he went on, as he turned the other youth around.
"What's the matter with my collar?" demanded the dudish student,
suspiciously.
"Talcum powder, I guess. You mustn't use so much after this." And Tom
commenced to brush the collar vigorously.
"I--er--I didn't use much--just a little for my nose, don't you know,"
answered William Philander Tubbs, who made much of his personal
appearance.
Tom continued to brush the coat collar off with one hand, while
unfolding a printed bill with the other. An advertising wagon had gone
past the college grounds the day before, and from a fellow distributing
handbills Tom had gotten a sheet telling of the merits of "Gumley's Red
Pills for Red-Blooded People," and also some small bills relating to
the same wonderful cure for many ills. The small sheets were in the
books; the large sheet he now proceeded to place on William Philander's
back, fastening it under the turned-down coat collar. There were a few
specks of talcum powder on the coat collar, but not enough to have
attracted any attention.
"Now you are all right, Tubbsky," said the fun-loving Rover. "My, but
you certainly do know how to dress!" he added, in affected admiration.
"Ah, really?" lisped the dude "Thanks. But please don't knock my
books down again," he added, and then proceeded on his way to one of
the classrooms.
"Well, that makes me feel a little better," murmured Tom, and then he
followed slowly, to watch the fun. He saw a number of students gather
and all commenced to snicker at Tubbs, who, totally unconscious of what
was taking place, marched on, holding his head erect.
"Wish it was my class, I'd like to see it out," mused Tom. "But never
mind, I guess I'll hear about it later," and he turned back to the
campus, to wait for Sam. As he did this, a queer pain shot through his
head and he murmured a suppressed groan.
"If that keeps on I'll have to do as Sam says, go and see a doctor," he
told himself. "Gosh, how queer I feel! Just as if I was getting
batty!"
"Hullo, Tom!" came the salute from nearby, and looking in that
direction the fun-loving youth saw another student coming up rapidly.
"Sam just told me you were going to take a walk and asked me to go
along."
"Yes, Songbird, we'll start as soon as Sam gets through with the lesson
he's studying. How's the muse these days?"
"Oh, I'm not writing much poetry now," answered John Powell, otherwise
known as Songbird, because of his efforts at composing verses. "I've
got too much to do studying."
"Why don't you write a poem to the professors? Maybe they'd excuse you
from recitations for it," and Tom smiled broadly.
"I--er--I did write one little poem about the lessons," answered the
would-be poet. "It went like this:
"The student sat in his room in a chair
With a look on his face of keen despair;
Outside his chums were playing ball
And oft to him they sent a call.
He wanted to play with all his heart,
But from his books he could not part."
"Grand! Immense! You've struck the clothespin on the head the first
clip!" cried Tom. "Any more of the same brand?"
"Well--er--I started the second verse, but I didn't get it finished.
It went like this:
"He had a lesson hard to learn,
It made his heart with anguish burn;
He wanted to throw those books away
And rush outside and run and play
And so--and so--and so------"
And so he kept on grinding there,
Gnashing his teeth and pulling his hair,"
finished Tom. "I know, for I've been there. Really, Songbird, that's
a dandy poem. You ought to have it framed and hung up in the gym."
"Do you really think so?" and the would-be poet looked pleased.
"I do. It would hit every fellow in Brill. And I think--What can that
fellow want?" added Tom suddenly, as a messenger boy from the town came
running up to him.
"Guess he's got a message for you," returned Songbird.
"For me? I trust it's no bad news," said Tom.