Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 13455-h.htm or 13455-h.zip:
(https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/4/5/13455/13455-h/13455-h.htm)
or
(https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/4/5/13455/13455-h.zip)
THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS
or, A Hunt for Fun and Fortune
by
ARTHUR M. WINFIELD
Author of "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," ETC.
1902
[Illustration: DINNER ON THE WAY.--_Frontis_.
_Rover Boys in the Mountains_.]
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER;
Or, The Search for the Missing Houseboat.
THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP;
Or, The Rivals of Pine Island.
THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA;
Or, The Crusoes of Seven Islands.
THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS;
Or, A Hunt for Fun and Fortune.
THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES;
Or, The Secret of the Island Cave.
THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST;
Or, The Search for a Lost Mine.
THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE;
Or, Stirring Adventures in Africa.
THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN;
Or, A Chase for a Fortune.
THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL;
Or, The Cadets of Putnam Hall.
12mo, finely illustrated and bound in cloth.
Price, per volume, 60 cents.
CONTENTS.
I. THE BOYS OF PUTNAM HALL
II. A GLIMPSE AT THE PAST
III. TOM ON A TOUR OF DISCOVERY
IV. DORMITORY NUMBER TWO
V. A SCENE IN THE SCHOOLROOM
VI. NEWS OF AN OLD ENEMY
VII. SOMETHING OF A SURPRISE
VIII. JASPER GRINDER IS DISMISSED
IX. A RACE ON THE ICE, AND WHAT FOLLOWED
X. THE END OF THE TERM
XI. HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS
XII. THE BRASS-LINED MONEY CASKET
XIII. THE HEART OF THE ADIRONDACKS
XIV. THE START UP THE RIVER
XV. WILD TURKEYS
XVI. ON THE WRONG TRAIL
XVII. AN UNEXPECTED DISCOVERY
XVIII. IN THE CAMP OF THE ENEMY
XIX. DICK AND THE WILDCAT
XX. BEAR POND AT LAST
XXI. A PAIR OF PRISONERS
XXII. JASPER GRINDER TRIES TO MAKE TERMS
XXIII. THE BLACK BEAR
XXIV. TOGETHER AGAIN
XXV. SNOWED IN
XXVI. AN UNWELCOME COMRADE
XXVII. BRINGING DOWN TWO BEARS
XXVIII. TWO FAILURES
XXIX. JASPER GRINDER AND THE WOLVES
XXX. A SUCCESSFUL SEARCH--CONCLUSION
INTRODUCTION.
My dear boys: "The Rover Boys in the Mountains" is a complete story in
itself, but forms the sixth volume of the "Rover Boys Series for Young
Americans."
This series of books for wide-awake American lads was begun several
years ago with the publication of "The Rover Boys at School." At that
time the author had in mind to write not more than three volumes,
relating the adventures of Dick, Tom, and Sam Rover at Putnam Hall, "On
the Ocean," and "In the Jungle," but the publication of these books
immediately called for a fourth, "The Rover Boys Out West," and then a
fifth, "The Rover Boys on the Great Lakes." Still my young friends did
not appear to be satisfied, and so I now present to them this sixth
volume, which relates the stirring adventures of the three Rover boys in
the Adirondacks, whither they had gone to solve the mystery of a certain
brass-lined money casket found by them on an island in Lake Huron.
In writing this volume I have had a double purpose in view; not only to
pen a tale which might prove pleasing to all boys, but one which might
likewise give them a fair idea of the wonderful resources and natural
beauty of this section of the United States. Ours is a wonderful
country, and none of us can learn too much concerning it.
Again thanking my young friends for their kindness in the past, I place
this volume in their hands, trusting they will find it as much to their
liking as those which have preceded it.
Affectionately and sincerely yours,
ARTHUR M. WINFIELD.
THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS.
CHAPTER I.
THE BOYS OF PUTNAM HALL.
"Hurrah, boys, the lake is frozen over! We'll be sure to have good
skating by to-morrow afternoon!"
"That's fine news, Tom," came from Sam Rover. "I've been fairly aching
for a skate ever since that cold snap of two weeks ago."
"We'll have to start up some skating matches if good skating does really
turn up," put in Dick Rover, who had just joined his two brothers in the
gymnasium attached to Putnam Hall. "Don't you remember those matches we
had last year?"
"Certainly, Dick," answered Tom Rover. "Didn't I win one of the silver
medals?"
"Gracious! but what a lot has happened since then," said Sam, who was
the youngest of the trio. "We've gotten rid of nearly all of our
enemies, and old Crabtree is in jail and can't bother Mrs. Stanhope or
Dora any more."
"We didn't get rid of Dan Baxter," remarked Dick. "He gave us the slip
nicely."
"Do you think he'll dare to bother us again, Dick?" questioned Sam
anxiously.
"I hope not, but I'm not certain, Sam. The Baxters are a bad lot, as all
of us know, and as Dan grows older he'll be just as wicked as his
father, and maybe worse."
"What a pity a fellow like Dan can't turn over a new leaf," came from
Tom Rover. "He's bright enough in his way, and would make a first-rate
chap."
"It's not in the blood," went on Dick. "We'll have to keep our eyes
open, that's all. If anything, Dan is probably more angry at us than
ever, for he believes we were the sole means of his father being put in
prison."
"Old Baxter deserved all he got," murmured Sam.
"So he did."
"Well, if Dan Baxter ever bothers me he'll catch it warm," came from
Tom. "I shan't attempt to mince matters with him. Everybody at this
school knows what a bully he was, and they know, too, what a rascal he's
been since he left. So I say, let him beware!" And so bringing the
conversation to an end for the time being, Tom Rover ran across the
gymnasium floor, leaped up and grasped a turning-bar stationed there,
and was soon going through a number of exercises recently taught to him
by the new "gym" teacher.
"Gracious, but Tom is getting to be a regular circus gymnast!" cried
Sam, as he watched his brother in admiration. "Just see what beautiful
turns he is making."
"Humph! that aint so wonderful," came from someone at Sam's elbow, and
turning the youngest Rover found himself close to Billy Tubbs, a short,
stocky youth who had entered Putnam Hall at the opening of the fall
term. Tubbs was a boy of rich parentage, and while he was not
particularly a bully, he considered himself of great importance and
vastly superior to the majority of his associates.
"All right, Tubby; if it isn't so wonderful, just you jump up and do
it," returned Sam coldly.
"Look here, how many times have I told you not to call me Tubby!" burst
out the rich youth. "I don't like it at all."
"Then what shall we call you?" asked Sam innocently. "Tubblets?"
"No, I don't want you to call me Tubblets either. My name is
Tubbs--William Philander Tubbs."
"Gosh! Am I to say all that whenever I want to address you?" demanded
Sam, with a pretended gasp for breath.
"I don't see why you shouldn't. It's my name."
"But Tubby--I mean Tubblets--no, Willander Philliam Tubbs--the name is
altogether too long. Why, supposin' you were standing on a railroad
track looking east, and an express train was coming from the west at the
rate of seventy-five miles an hour, and it got to within a hundred yards
of you when I discovered your truly horrible peril, and I should start
to warn you of the aforesaid truly horrible peril, take my word for it,
before I could utter such an elongated personal handle as that, you'd be
struck and distributed along that track for a distance of a mile and a
quarter. No, Tubby, my conscience wouldn't allow it--really it
wouldn't." And Sam shook his head seriously.
"See here, what are you giving me?" roared Tubbs wrathfully. "Don't you
worry about my standing on a railroad track and asking you to call me
off." And then he added, with a red face, as a laugh went up from half a
dozen students standing near: "William Philander Tubbs is my name, and I
shan't answer to any other after this."
"Good for you Washtubs!" came from a boy in the rear of the crowd.
"I'd stick to that resolution, by all means, Buttertubs," came from the
opposite side of the crowd.
And then one older youth, who was given to writing songs, began to sing
softly:
"Rub-a-dub-dub!
One man in a tub,
And who do you think it is,
It's William Philander,
Who's got up his dander,
And isn't he mad! Gee whizz!"
The doggerel, gotten up on the spur of the moment, struck the fancy of
fully a score of boys, big and little, and in an instant all were
singing it over and over again, at the top of their lungs, and at this
those who did not sing began to laugh uproariously.
"I say, what's it all about?" demanded Tom, as he slid from the
turning-bar.
"Songbird Powell has composed a comic opera in Tubby's honor," answered
Larry Colby, one of the Rover boys' chums. "I guess he's going to have
it put on the stage after the holidays, with Tubby as leading man."
"See here, I won't have this!" roared the rich youth, waving his hand
wildly first at one boy and then another. "I don't want you to make up
any songs about me."
"Songbird won't charge you anything," put in Fred Garrison, another of
the students. "He's a true poet, and writes for nothing. You ought to
feel highly honored."
"Make a speech of thanks, that's a good fellow," put in George Granbury,
another student.
"It's an outrage!" shouted Tubbs, his face growing redder each instant.
"I won't stand it."
"All right, we won't charge you for sitting on it," came from the back
of the crowd.
"My right name is----"
"Barrel, but they call me Tubbs for short," finished another student.
"Hurrah, Tubby is discovered at last."
"Don't blush, Washtub! you don't look half as pretty as when you're
pale."
"If you feel warm, Buttertub, go out and sit on the thin ice. It will
soon cool you off," came from Fred Garrison.
"I'll cool you off, Garry!" burst out the rich youth, and made a wild
dash at his tormentor. But somebody put out a foot and the tormented boy
stumbled headlong, at which the crowd set up another shout, and then
sang louder than ever,
"Rub-a-dub-dub!
One man in a tub!"
"I say, who tripped me up!" gasped Tubbs, as soon as he could scramble
up. "Tell me who did it, and I'll soon settle with him."
"Who rolled over the buttertub?" asked Tom solemnly. "One peanut reward
for the first correct answer to this absorbing puzzle. Please don't all
raise your hands at once."
"I believe you did it, Tom Rover!" bellowed the rich youth.
"I? Never, Tubby, my dear boy. I never rolled over a buttertub in my
life. You've got the wrong number. Kindly ring the bell next door."
"Then it was Sam, and I'll fix him for it, see if I don't!"
"No, it wasn't Sam. He never touched a washtub in his life."
"I say it was Sam," cried Tubbs, who was almost beside himself with
rage. "And I'm going to teach him a lesson. There, Sam Rover, how do you
like that?"
As the rich youth finished, he caught the youngest Rover by the shoulder
with his left hand and with his right gave Sam a slanting blow on the
cheek.
"Stop! I didn't trip you!" exclaimed Sam; and then as Tubbs aimed
another blow at him he ducked and broke loose and hit out in return. His
blow was harder and more truly aimed than he had anticipated, and it
took Tubbs directly on the nose. A spurt of blood followed, accompanied
by a yell of pain, and the rich youth fell back.
"Oh! oh! My nose!"
"You brought it on yourself," retorted Sam. "I didn't----"
"Stop! stop! Boys, what does this mean?" came in a sudden stern voice,
and in a moment more the two combatants found themselves confronted by
Jasper Grinder, a new teacher. "Fighting, eh? How often, must you be
told that such disgraceful conduct is not allowed here? You come with
me, and I'll make an example of both of you."
And in a moment more the two lads found themselves prisoners in Jasper
Grinder's strong grasp and being marched out of the gymnasium toward the
school building proper.