THREE DEMANDS
On the morning following the capture of the four Rover boys, Miss
Jennie Corning, on getting up to prepare breakfast for her brother and
Tom Rover, was much surprised to find a letter that had been thrust
under the front door of the house.
“Well, I declare, it’s a letter for Mr. Rover!” she exclaimed to
herself. “I wonder why they didn’t knock? Perhaps they thought we were
all asleep and didn’t want to wake us up.”
She heard Tom stirring in his room, and, going to it, knocked on the
door.
“A letter for you,” she said as he peered out through a crack. “I found
it shoved under the front door.”
On the day previous Tom Rover had received telegrams from both Mr.
Renton and Mr. Parkhurst stating that they were with him in his actions
against Peter Garrish and that they would come to Gold Hill as soon as
possible.
“Maybe Garrish has got wind of what I’m up to and wants to head me
off,” thought Tom as he sat down on a chair by the window and opened
the communication.
He read the letter hastily and then uttered a low whistle as he read it
a second time. The communication ran as follows:
“You and your family have done a whole lot toward placing us in
a hole. Now we intend to get square. We have your twin sons and
the other two boys prisoners a long distance from here. They
are in a spot where you will never be able to find them. If you
ever expect to see your twins alive again be prepared to pay us
fifty thousand dollars in cash. This is a first notice so that
you can get the money together and have it ready. You will soon
receive another notice as to how the money is to be paid. Do
not try to put the authorities on our track or you will regret
it as long as you live.
“DAVENPORT.
“JACKSON.
“TATE.”
It would be hard to analyze poor Tom’s feeling when he had ascertained
the contents of the letter. The news that the boys were prisoners of
their enemies upset him fully as much as the boys had been upset when
they had been told the twins’ father was injured.
“Dick was right, after all!” he groaned. “I thought he was overcautious
when he had the women folks and the girls taken away. But he was
right. Davenport must have been up around Colby Hall and Clearwater
Hall for the express purpose of getting his hands on the boys, and the
girls too. It was a deep-laid plot, no doubt of it. And that being so,
they have probably done everything they could to cover up their tracks.”
What to do Tom hardly knew. He dressed with all possible haste and then
went to talk the matter over with Cal Corning, who had not been away
from home, as Nick Ocker had told the boys.
“It’s a villainous piece of business,” was Corning’s comment. “Why,
those rascals have kidnaped the lads! They ought every one of them to
be shot down!”
“I agree with you,” answered Tom. “But first we’ve got to find them.
You told them to go to a place called Gansen Lake, didn’t you?”
“Yes. It’s one of the finest spots in this vicinity for camping out.”
“Then I think I’d better ride over there and try to find out what
happened,” went on the twins’ father. “I’d like you to come along.”
“I sure will, Mr. Rover. And we’ll take guns along too――we may need
’em,” went on Cal Corning, an angry look in his eyes. “I hope we can
round those rascals up. Things have been pretty peaceable like in
this county, and we want ’em to continue that way. We don’t harbor no
bandits nor kidnapers either.”
Tom waited until Cal Corning had swallowed a hasty breakfast.
For himself, he managed to drink a cup of coffee at the earnest
solicitation of Miss Jennie and Miss Lucy, both of whom were highly
excited over what was taking place. Then the two men rode off toward
Lake Gansen.
It was an easy matter for Corning to locate the spot where the four
boys had camped. On the edge of the lake they found the remains of the
campfire, and, searching the vicinity, came upon a handkerchief bearing
Fred’s initials. But everything was gone, for Ocker and Digby had taken
the things away the evening before.
Cal Corning was a thorough backwoodsman and after a careful search
declared that all of the horses had passed up to Sunset Trail. They
followed the hoofmarks for a short distance, but soon lost them where
the trail became rocky.
It was long after dark before Tom Rover returned to the Corning
homestead. Cal had preceded him, but Tom had been loath to give up
the hunt for the missing ones. He had found absolutely no trace of
the boys, and he was increasingly dispirited. For the time being all
thoughts concerning Peter Garrish and his doings were forgotten.
“I’ve got to do something,” muttered Tom to himself. “I’ve simply got
to do something!” But what to do he did not know. He started another
hunt the next day, and then, being equally unsuccessful in getting a
trace of the four boys, rode over to Maporah and sent a long telegram
to his two brothers.
The telegram was delivered to Dick Rover at the home on Riverside Drive
in New York just at a time when Dick and Sam were so excited they could
scarcely contain themselves.
And their excitement was justified, for while the two men had been
eating dinner in Dick’s home, a messenger had appeared at the front
door with two communications, one addressed to Dick and the other
to his younger brother. Each of the two letters was similar to that
sent to Tom Rover. In the one addressed to Dick the three rascals,
Davenport, Jackson and Tate, demanded fifty thousand dollars for the
safe return of Jack, while in the communication addressed to Sam
the same amount of money was demanded for the safe return of Fred.
Completely bewildered by these letters the two men had been discussing
the situation when the telegram from Tom was brought in.
“Poor Tom is in the same boat!” exclaimed Sam. “Those scoundrels want
fifty thousand dollars from him or they won’t return the twins.”
“That means that Tate, Jackson and Davenport want a hundred and fifty
thousand dollars from us for the safe return of the four boys,” came
from Dick. “It’s a pretty stiff demand, I take it.”
“Are you going to pay it, Dick?”
“Not if I can possibly help it. Fifty thousand dollars isn’t a flea
bite. At the same time, I don’t want them to hurt Jack or the other
boys. I know Davenport and his crowd pretty well. They are about as
hard-boiled as they come. I suppose the gang are as mad as hornets at
me and the kids for the way we turned the tables on them down in the
oil fields.”
“Well, I don’t believe in giving them a cent, either,” said Sam. “Just
the same, it makes me shiver to think of what they might do to Fred if
I don’t pony up.”
“We’ve got to do something, that’s sure.” Dick Rover began to pace up
and down the floor. “I expect Tom is just as much worried as we are. It
was an outrage to let Davenport and those other fellows out of prison,
and this proves it. I’ll tell you what, Sam. I’d give a good part of
that fifty thousand dollars right now to get my hands on Davenport,”
and Dick’s eyes sparked angrily.
From the servant girl they learned that the message had been delivered
by a boy. Who the fellow was she did not know, nor could she give a
very good description of his appearance.
“I suppose he was a kid just hired for the occasion,” said Dick. “Most
likely he knew nothing about the fellow who gave him the letters.” And
in this surmise Jack’s father was correct.
The two talked the matter over for half an hour and then Dick
telephoned to a telegraph station and sent a telegram to Tom stating he
was starting for Maporah immediately and that Sam would probably follow
in a day or two.
“Somebody will have to go down to the office in the morning,” said
Dick. “I’ll take the midnight train for Chicago. You can follow just as
soon as you can fix things up in Wall Street,” and so it was arranged.
Although he did not know it, Dick Rover’s departure for the Grand
Central Terminal was noted by a young man who was watching the three
Rover houses from the other side of Riverside Drive. This person was
none other than the fellow who had introduced himself to the Rover boys
as Joe Brooks. And it was Brooks, acting on information sent to him
by telegraph by Davenport, who had made the demands in the letters
received by Dick and Sam.
“Going West, eh?” muttered Brooks to himself, after he saw Dick on his
way on the midnight limited. “I’ll have to let Davenport know about
this,” and he immediately forwarded a cipher dispatch. Then he returned
to the vicinity of the Rover homes to learn if possible what Sam Rover
intended to do.
He remained around the vicinity for more than an hour, then returned to
his hotel to snatch a few hours’ sleep. But he was up by seven o’clock
and once more on the watch, and he followed Sam down into Wall Street
and at noon saw Sam also depart for Maporah. Then he sent an additional
dispatch to Davenport.
“I think I might as well go out West myself now,” he told himself after
the dispatch had been forwarded. “There is no use of letting Davenport
and that crowd get their fists on one hundred and fifty thousand
dollars when I’m not around. If I’m not on hand they may forget all the
work I’ve done on the case. I’m entitled to my full share of whatever
comes in, and I intend to have it.” A few hours later he too departed
for the West, getting a ticket for Allways. He traveled as he was as
far as Chicago. But there, before changing to the other train, he
donned the costume of a Westerner and put on a wig of sandy gray hair
which made him look considerably older than he was.
Although he had not said a word to anybody about it, Dick Rover carried
with him on his Western trip the equivalent of seventy-five thousand
dollars, part in cash and part in Liberty Bonds. When Sam left the
city at noon the day following he carried a like amount of cash and
securities, the two sums making the total of the amount demanded by the
rascals who were holding the four boys for ransom.
“If the worst comes to the worst, we’ll have to pony up and let it go
at that,” was the way Dick had expressed himself before leaving. “Just
the same, I hope we won’t have to give up a cent, and that we can catch
those rascals red-handed.”
Dick hoped greatly that Tom would have good news for him on his
arrival. But he was doomed to disappointment. Tom rode over to the
Maporah station to meet his brother, and one look at his face told Dick
that so far the hunt for the missing boys had proved fruitless.
“I’m keeping the thing as quiet as possible,” said Tom, whose eyes
showed that he had slept but little the past few nights. “But I’ve
got Cal Corning, Hank Butts, Lew Billings, and half a dozen other men
hunting high and low for the boys. So far though they haven’t turned
up the slightest clew, and I haven’t been able to get a clew myself,
although I’ve been riding up and down one trail and another and making
inquiries of every one I met. Not a soul seems to have seen them since
they were at Lake Gansen.”
“Have you received any more letters?” asked Dick.
“No. But I’m expecting one every day. Those fellows are probably as
anxious as we are. They’ll want to get their money and most likely get
out of the country――maybe going down into Mexico where we can’t get at
them.”
“I don’t like it, Tom, that you haven’t got more word,” and now Dick’s
face showed deeper anxiety than ever. “Those fellows may have got cold
feet on the whole proposition and done away with the boys.”
“That may be so, Dick,” and Tom’s voice took on a tone of hopelessness.
“I wouldn’t put it past Davenport and that gang to do anything. I only
pray to Heaven that the boys may still be alive.”