DICK ROVER'S REVELATION
"We've been tricked!" exclaimed Randy.
"Just what I think!" burst out Fred. "They didn't bring us here to see
Gabe Werner at all!"
"There isn't a soul around the building, that's certain," remarked Andy.
"What do you suppose has become of Nappy and Slugger?"
The Rovers looked around in the fast-gathering darkness, but could see
no one. Then they walked around the building several times, peering in
all directions for a sight of the fellows who had brought them on this
strange mission.
"It's a storehouse, right enough," announced Jack. "And my opinion is
that everything is nailed up except the front door, and that, as you can
see, has a padlock on it."
It was certainly a mystery, and for the time being the Rover boys were
unable to solve it. Looking down on the ground, they saw a number of
footprints, but it was now too dark to follow any of these.
"Wish we had brought a pocket flashlight along," remarked Fred.
"It's getting as dark as a stack of black cats," said Andy.
"Yes, and we had better be getting back to town before it gets so dark
we lose our way," returned Jack.
As it was, they had some difficulty in finding the path down to the
road. Then they stumbled along in the darkness, occasionally heading
into some mud hole up to their ankles.
"Nappy and Slugger certainly have the laugh on us for this," said Fred,
as they plowed along. "Maybe they thought we would lose our way
completely in this darkness."
It was a good half-hour before the Rovers reached the outskirts of
Columbina. At a great distance they could see many twinkling electric
lights, one of which hung on the top of every oil derrick. But these
were so far off they did nothing towards illuminating the way.
"Almost ten o'clock," announced Jack, consulting his watch. "About all
we can do is to clean the mud from our shoes and go to bed."
There was a sleepy young clerk behind the counter of the hotel, and he
showed them where they could clean up.
"No bootblacks in Columbina," said Randy, with a grin. And then all set
to work with a whisk broom and brushes to clean up.
"I wonder if Uncle Dick will get in to-night," remarked Fred. The last
train to stop at Columbina was due in fifteen minutes.
"I think I'll stay up and find out," said Jack.
"You waiting for Mr. Rover?" demanded the boy behind the counter, as he
yawned and stretched himself. "If you are, he came in a couple of hours
ago."
"Is that so!" cried Jack, in surprise. "Where is he now?"
"I think he's up in his room, although I'm not sure. You see, I was out
to a dance last night, and I'm pretty tired, and I fell asleep a couple
of times sitting here doing nothing. Somehow or other, it seems to be an
off night around this hotel. Nothing doing at all," and the sleepy clerk
yawned again.
"Maybe he's up in his room looking over those papers he brought,"
suggested Randy. "Come on up and see."
All mounted the stairs to the third floor of the hotel. When they
reached the room occupied by Dick Rover they found the door locked, and
a rap upon it brought no response.
"He isn't here, that's sure," said Jack. "Maybe he went out on an
errand."
"Unless he's in our room," said Fred. In the larger apartment which the
four boys occupied there was a small table, and Jack's father had
several times come in to use this for writing purposes.
Jack had one of the keys to the room, and, stepping across the hallway,
he attempted to insert this in the lock. Much to his surprise, the key
would not go into the keyhole.
"That is strange----" he began, and then tried the door, to find it
unlocked. Another key was on the inside.
The room was pitch dark, only a dim lamp being lighted in the rear of
the long hallway. Jack stepped forward to get a match from a bureau, and
as he did so he stumbled over something on the floor and pitched
headlong.
"Oh!" he gasped, and then gave a sudden shudder, for he had felt the
body of someone beside him. "Be careful," he went on. "Make a light,
quick! Here is someone on the floor! I'm afraid it's dad!"
The others piled into the room, and Randy, who happened to have some
matches in his pocket, struck a light and lit the lamp.
There, on the floor of the bedroom, lay Dick Rover. There was a small
cut on his left temple from which the blood was flowing. He was
breathing heavily, and evidently trying to speak.
"Dad! Dad! what happened to you?" cried Jack hoarsely, as he bent over
and raised his parent up.
"He's been hurt!" exclaimed Fred. "See the cut on his forehead.
Wait--I'll get some water."
He made a dash for the pitcher and also for a towel, and while Jack
supported his father on his arm the others bathed Dick Rover's face and
washed away the trickling blood.
"He's been hit," declared Randy. "See the lump on the back of his head,"
and he pointed it out.
Presently Dick Rover opened his eyes and stared vacantly at the anxious
lads.
"What--what--what happened to me?" he stammered and gave a gasp.
"Who--who knocked me down?"
"That we don't know, Dad," answered Jack, and he was glad to realize
that his parent was coming to his senses. "Gee! I was afraid you had
been killed."
The four boys raised Dick Rover up and laid him on one of the cots. They
had a little first-aid kit with them, and from this they got some
plaster with which they bound up the small cut.
It was some time before Dick Rover felt able to tell his story. In the
meanwhile Fred dashed downstairs for some hot water, which was applied
to the lump on the sufferer's head.
"I guess I'll get over it," said Jack's father, with a wan smile. "But
they certainly did give it to me." Then he gave a sudden start. "What
about my papers? Are they safe?"
The boys looked around, but saw no papers of any kind in the room.
"I had them in my bag. I brought them in here to look them over, and to
do some writing at the table."
"Well, there's no bag here now, or papers either," announced Randy.
"Then those rascals must have taken them! That was probably why they
knocked me down. They wanted to rob me."
"But who attacked you, Dad?" questioned Jack.
"That I don't know, Son. I was seated at the table with the open bag
beside me, and was looking over some of the documents I had brought from
the safe deposit vault in Wichita Falls when I heard a noise behind me
near the door. I was just about to get up to see what it meant, when all
of a sudden I received a terrible crack on the back of the head. I
turned around, and then somebody aimed another blow at me that caught me
on the left temple. Then everything seemed to dance before my eyes, and
I guess I must have gone down in a heap on the floor. And that's all I
knew until I found you supporting me and bathing my forehead."
"It must have been those oil-well fellows!" ejaculated Fred.
"I think I see a light!" almost shouted Jack. "Nappy and Slugger were in
this plot. They made us go away out of town just so we wouldn't be here
with my dad when the other fellows attacked him!"
"I guess you're right," answered Randy.
"What's this you are saying?" questioned Dick Rover, rather feebly.
In a few words the boys explained the trick Nappy Martell and Slugger
Brown had played on them.
"Yes, I guess you are right. It must have been a part of the game," said
Jack's father. "And are you sure my bag and everything that was in it
are gone?"
"Yes, there isn't a single paper in this room," answered Jack. "And when
we came up we found the door to your room locked, so it isn't likely
they are there."
"They must have dug out the minute they knocked me over and got the
papers," answered Dick Rover. "Probably they were afraid you or somebody
else might come up and catch them at their dastardly work. As it is, it
is queer somebody didn't see them."
"There happens to be no one down in the office but the young clerk, and
he's half asleep," answered Randy. "Besides that, those fellows may have
come in by the back way. Did you catch sight of them at all?"
"I can't say that I did, Randy. The first blow dazed me, and while I
remember something of two or three forms, it is all so vague that it
amounts to nothing. I rather think, however, that there were at least
three men."
"And if there were, I'll bet a new hat those men were Davenport, Tate,
and Jackson," returned Jack firmly.
"You may be right, Son. But you know what they say in court: It is one
thing to know the truth, and quite another to be able to prove it."
"But who would want to steal those papers if not Davenport and his
crowd?" questioned Randy. And then he added hurriedly: "Did they rob you
of anything else, Uncle Dick?"
"I don't think so." Dick Rover felt in his pockets. "No, my money and
watch and my diamond ring are all safe. If they had been ordinary
thieves they would certainly have taken everything of value."
"Our baggage doesn't seem to be disturbed," said Andy, who was looking
around. "I guess you are right--they were after those documents and
nothing else."
There was a pause, and suddenly the boys saw a queer smile pass over
Dick Rover's face, and then he uttered a peculiar whistle.
"What is it, Dad?" said Jack wonderingly. He knew that his father had a
habit of whistling in that fashion when something struck him as funny.
"I was just thinking that perhaps those fellows who robbed me had taken
a white elephant off my hands," returned Dick Rover.
"Why, what do you mean by white elephant?" questioned Andy.
"I mean that maybe they are fighting tooth and nail to get possession of
something which I might be only too glad to give them for nothing."
"Oh, Dad, are you talking about the Lorimer Spell claim?" questioned
Jack.
"Yes."
"But I don't understand."
"Of course you don't. But maybe you will after I've told my story. As
you know, I went to Wichita Falls mainly to get the documents which
Lorimer Spell had stored away in the safe deposit vault of a bank there.
Well, I got the documents, and in looking them over found that while
Lorimer Spell's claim to the land seemed to be fairly well established,
still there was something of a cloud to the title--the cloud of which
Carson Davenport and his crowd are taking advantage. But more than that,
I found that a firm of oil experts named Fitch and Lunberry had gone
over the property both for Spell and for an oil promoter who had thought
to put some money into operations there. So then I called on the firm
and had a long talk with Mr. Fitch."
"And what did Mr. Fitch have to say about the land?" asked Jack quickly.
"He was very frank to say that in his opinion there was no oil of any
kind on the claim. He told me that he knew Lorimer Spell very well, and
that while Spell was all right in the main, he had been daffy on the
subject of oil, so much so that it had just about turned the poor
fellow's brain until he imagined that there was fabulous wealth in oil
on every acre he possessed. Mr. Fitch got down to facts and figures, and
showed me all of his deductions, and he said that it was his honest
opinion that any money spent on the Lorimer Spell claim would be utterly
wasted."