DREAMS OF YOUTH
“Mr. Sanderson!”
“Why, if it ain’t Mr. Rover!” cried the old farmer. “Glad to see ye!
Bound fer hum, I suppose?”
“Yes.” Dick stepped close to the old farmer’s side. “Mr. Sanderson do you
want to do me a great big favor and do it quick?” he went on, earnestly.
“O’ course. Wot is it?”
“Do you see that train coming?”
“Well, as my eyesight is putty good, I do,” and the old farmer chuckled.
“And do you see that carriage on the road?”
“Yes—it’s one of them turnouts from the gals’ school.”
“Some of our friends are in that carriage and I want to hold that train
till they get here,” continued Dick, quickly. “The station agent won’t
hold the train for me—so I want you to do it.”
“Me? I ain’t got nuthin’ to do with the railroad.”
“I know that. But you can hold the train, nevertheless. The train will
stop just below this crossing—it always does. When it is about ready to
start you drive on the track—and then your horse balks, see? You try to
start him but he won’t start. You fuss and pull, but the horse don’t
budge until those young ladies are on the train.”
“By gum! I’ll do it!” exclaimed the fat farmer, with a twinkle in his
eyes. “This hoss is jest the one to balk, too.”
“I can depend on you?”
“You kin, Mr. Rover.”
“Thank you a thousand times!” returned Dick; and then he went off to
rejoin his brothers and Grace.
The train had already rolled in and passengers were getting off and on,
and the agent was loading on the trunks and handbags.
“Oh, if they would only hurry!” cried Grace.
“You can get aboard,” said Dick. “This train won’t leave just yet.”
“But it is going to go before they get here,” declared Sam. “It’s a
shame! Two minutes more would fix it—and they could hold the train as
well as not.”
“All aboard!” sang out the conductor, as the last of the baggage
disappeared into the baggage car.
Dick looked ahead. Mr. Sanderson’s farm wagon had just started to cross
the tracks. He was sawing on the reins and the horse was acting in a
strange manner, not knowing what to make of it. He turned part way around
and faced the locomotive.
“G’lang!” sang out the old farmer. “Consarn ye! What’s the matter of ye,
Franky?”
“Oh, Dick, he’ll be killed!” burst out Sam, in horror.
“Looks as if the horse wanted to climb over the engine,” came from Tom.
“It’s all right,” answered the elder Rover boy in a whisper. “The
engineer sees him and won’t start the train. Mr. Sanderson is doing it on
purpose.”
“On purpose?” came from Sam and Tom, and then of a sudden they
understood, and both had to turn away to hide the grins that broke out on
their faces.
“Go ahead!” cried the conductor, and then he saw the trouble and ran
forward to watch proceedings.
From the antics of the horse in front of the locomotive, the Rover boys
turned their attention to the carriage that was approaching. As it came
closer they saw Dora and Nellie waving their hands frantically.
“Wait! Wait for us!” cried out Dora, and as the carriage came to a stop
she leaped out, followed by Nellie and the other girl students.
“Just in time!” sang out Dick, loudly. “Come on, here is our car!”
“Oh, what made you so late?” asked Grace. “We have been worried to death
about you.”
“One of the girls forgot her pocketbook and we had to drive back for it,”
explained Nellie. “Oh, we thought sure we would miss the train, when we
saw it stop. We were so far off.”
“I’ll explain why you caught it later on,” whispered Dick. “Now excuse me
a moment,” and he ran towards the locomotive.
A crowd had commenced to collect, and several folks were offering Mr.
Sanderson advice. But though he seemed to try his best, his horse and
wagon remained in front of the train.
“Here, let me aid you, Mr. Sanderson,” cried Dick, and gave the farmer
the wink. “It’s all right,” he added, in a whisper. “I’m your friend for
life after this.”
“Glad to be of service,” answered the old farmer, in an equally low tone.
“G’lang, Franky!” he roared suddenly, and touched the horse with his
whip. At once the animal turned partly around and ran off the tracks and
down the country road as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“Confound that fool nag!” muttered the conductor of the train, as he
consulted his watch. “Here we’ve lost six minutes more. Tom, can you make
it up?”
“I can try,” answered the engineer.
“All right! Let her go!” And Dick and the other passengers who had gone
forward hopped on the train in a hurry, and the conductor followed. The
train official did not suspect that the “blockading” had been done
purposely, and Dick did not enlighten him.
The Rovers had secured seats for the girls and themselves in one of the
parlor cars, and all were together. As the train rolled onward Dick
related the particulars of the trick that had been played with the aid of
Mr. Sanderson.
“Oh, Dick, how could you think of such a thing?” cried Dora.
“Oh, it just popped into my mind,” he answered. “And Mr. Sanderson acted
his part to perfection. Aren’t you glad we did something to hold the
train?”
“Indeed yes!”
“Would you have gone on without us?” asked Nellie.
“Not a step!” answered Tom, and spoke the words so quickly and earnestly
that everybody in the party laughed.
“I didn’t want to miss this train for two reasons,” went on Dick. “In the
first place, we’d lose our parlor-car seats, and in the second place,
we’d have to wait four hours for another train, and that nothing but a
slow accommodation.”
“Well, I shouldn’t mind a slow train—while we have such good company,”
observed Sam, and for this remark Grace gave him a warm look of
appreciation.
“Have you had any further news from home?” asked Dick, of Dora, a little
later.
“I got a letter from mamma yesterday. She says Professor Crabtree called
again. But she had the maid go to the door, and she refused to see him.”
“That’s good. Did he say anything to the maid?”
“She says he went away looking very angry and muttering something about
making mamma see him. Mamma watched him from an upper window and she
wrote that he hung around the garden about half an hour before he went
away.”
“The rascal! You had better get Mr. Laning to look into this for you. If
he bothers you any more he ought to be locked up.”
“Just what I think. But mamma is too timid to go to the police, or
anything like that.”
“I wish I was there when old Crabtree called—I’d give him a piece of my
mind!”
“Oh, Dick, maybe he would want to—to—shoot you, or something!”
“No, Josiah Crabtree isn’t that kind. He belongs to the
snake-in-the-grass variety of rascals. But perhaps he won’t come
again—now that your mother has refused to see him.”
“I wish I could be sure of it,” sighed the girl.
“What have you done about the fortune, Dora?”
“Mamma has everything in the vault of a safe deposit company in Ithaca.
We don’t know just what to do—thinking Tad Sobber may tie the money up
again in the courts.”
“I don’t see how he can do that—unless he brings up some new evidence to
prove that the fortune belongs to Sid Merrick’s estate.”
“Uncle John thought it might be best to buy Tad Sobber off—just to end
the matter. But Sobber wanted too much.”
“I’d not give him a cent—he doesn’t deserve it—after the way he treated
you, and us. I don’t believe Sid Merrick ever had a right to one dollar
of the fortune.”
“I believe that, too.”
“I suppose Crabtree came around because he heard that you had more money
than ever. Gracious, Dora, some day you’ll be real rich in your own
name!”
“Well, won’t you like it,” she demanded brightly.
“I’ll not complain. But I’d take you just as quickly if you were poor,”
added Dick earnestly.
“Would you, Dick?”
“Do you doubt me?”
“No, Dick, I don’t. I know you don’t want me for my money,” and Dora
leaned forward to let her hand rest for a moment on his shoulder.
“I’ve got a little money of my own,” he went on, after a pause, in which
they looked straight into each other’s eyes.
“A little! Oh, Dick, I guess you’ve got a good bit more than I’ve got.”
“Are you sorry for that, Dora?”
“Sorry? Oh, no, but—but——” And Dora suddenly turned very red.
“What, dear?” he whispered.
“Why—I—that is—you said you would take me just as quickly if I were poor.
Well—I—I’d take you that way, too!” And now the girl hid her blushes in
her handkerchief.
“Dora, you’re a darling, and true-blue!” whispered Dick, fervidly. “We’ll
pull together, rich or poor, and be happy, see if we don’t!”
“First call for lunch!” announced a waiter, coming through the car.
“Say, that hits me!” came from Tom. “I had such a slim breakfast I am
hollow clear to my shoes!”
“A slim breakfast!” sniffed Sam. “Fruit, sawdust and cream, fried eggs
with bacon, half a dozen muffins, and coffee!”
“Get out! You’re thinking of your own breakfast!” retorted Tom. “Come on,
let’s lead the way—before the dining car fills up.” And he caught Nellie
by the arm.
“All right, we’re coming!” cried Sam, and followed with Grace. “Come on,
Dick!” And he motioned to the others. Soon all were moving towards the
dining car.
“Might as well do a little practicing,” was Tom’s comment, on the way,
and linking his arm into that of Nellie, he began very softly to whistle
a well-known wedding march.
“Oh, Tom Rover!” cried Nellie, giving him a playful poke in the side. “Of
all things! And in a railroad car! I’ve a good mind not to walk with
you.”
“All right, I’ll change the tune,” cried Tom, cheerfully, and commenced
to whistle a funeral dirge, at which all of the girls shrieked with
laughter.
It was a jolly crowd that sat down to the tables in the dining car, and
the Rover boys saw to it that the girls were provided with whatever they
desired on the bill of fare. They took their time over the meal, and the
fun they had made even the waiters smile broadly.
“We’ll get to Cartown in an hour,” said Sam, after they had returned to
the parlor car. “And then we’ll have to say good-bye.”
“Oh, it’s too bad!” pouted Grace. “I wish you were going through to
Cedarville with us.”
“So do I.”
“Well, the best of friends must part, as the oyster said to the shell,”
observed Tom, and at this joke the others smiled faintly. But now that
they were to separate so soon all felt rather sober. Little did they
dream of the exciting occurrence that was to bring them together again.