OFF FOR BRILL COLLEGE
When old Ricks saw his neighbor approaching he could not at first
believe his eyes. Then he ran up to the man, who was a particularly sour
individual.
"Say, I thought you was dead," he gasped.
"Dead?" returned Ham Ludd. "Do I look like I was dead?" And he glared
savagely at Ricks. "I ain't dead, not by a jugful!"
"Humph! Well, if you ain't dead, mebbe you'll explain about that cat,
an' dog," went on old Ricks.
"Wot about 'em?"
"You told folks I poisoned the cat and starved the dog to death."
"I did not."
"You did--it was in the newspapers!" bawled old Ricks, commencing to
dance around.
"I didn't! Where's them newspapers?" asked Ham Ludd, also growing
excited.
"I ain't got 'em, but Tom Rover said----"
And then suddenly old Ricks stopped short. He was commencing to "smell a
mouse," as the saying is.
"Wot did Tom Rover say?" demanded Ham Ludd.
"Never mind wot he said," grumbled the stationmaster. "Only you be
careful o' wot you say about me in the future, Ham Ludd, thet's all!"
"Huh! I guess that Rover boy has been a'jokin' you ag'in, Ricky," said
Ludd, with a grin. "How about thet busted-up bonfire, an' that snaky
cigar? Ha! ha! he had you them times, didn't he?"
"You shet up, Ham Ludd!" roared the stationmaster. "Don't you say
another word!"
"I'll say all I please! An' you'll put up that fence, too, or I'll have
the law on ye!" retorted Ham Ludd; and then went on his way.
"Hang them Rover boys anyway!" muttered old Ricks, as he gritted his
teeth. "I'll be glad when they go off to college ag'in. Wish they would
stay away!" And he went about his work.
"Ricks and Ludd will have it in for each other from now on," remarked
Dick, as he and his brothers got into the automobile to go home.
"Yes, and he'll have it in for us--me especially," returned Tom, with a
broad grin. "Never mind; I can stand it," he added, carelessly.
Troubles, past or to come, never set heavily on that fun-loving youth's
shoulders.
The boys had given the biplane one trial in carrying two passengers,
Dick and Sam going up together while Captain Colby was present. On the
day following the departure of Hans, they rearranged the seats on the
_Dartaway_ and got ready to go up three strong, provided the biplane
would carry the load.
"I know she will do it if we get a more powerful engine," said Dick.
"Then we'll get the engine," returned Sam.
They made the start with care, all the others at the homestead being
present to witness the trial. The _Dartaway_ went up slowly, with Dick
in the center, at the wheel, and Sam on one side of him and Tom on the
other.
"Hurrah! we are going to make it!" cried Tom, as the biplane arose like
some big bird.
"It's a strain though," answered Dick. "We won't be able to fly very
high nor very long."
"But it's great to be up together!" murmured Sam.
They flew for nearly ten minutes, making wide circles and a big figure
eight. They went over the house and the barn, and in plain sight of
several surrounding farms, men, women and children coming out to look
at them. Once more the Rover boys were the talk of the whole
country-side.
"Ain't nothing they can't do," said one of the farmers living near. "If
they tackle a thing it's plumb bound to go through, every time!"
"It's because they are so full of grit and push," answered his wife.
"Wish our Jed was like 'em," she added, wistfully.
"Jed ain't never had no chanct, Mirandy."
"Boys like them Rovers make their own chances, Silas," she retorted.
That evening it was Tom who made a proposal that met with instant
approval from his brothers.
"Let's go to the college in the biplane," he said.
"Hurrah! just the cream!" returned Sam. "Say, won't the fellows stare
when they see us!"
"Very nice, but we can't very well fly all the way from here to Ashton,"
put in Dick, mentioning the town near which Brill College was located.
"Oh, I didn't mean that," explained Tom. "I meant to fly from Ashton to
Brill. We could ship the biplane to Ashton in secret, put it together on
the sly, and create a big sensation by coming down right on the college
campus."
"Tom, you're a wonder!" cried Sam. "It's the best plan ever! Oh, let's
do it!"
"Wonder where we could ship it to, so the other fellows wouldn't get on
to what was doing?" mused Dick.
"Why not ship it to Mr. Sanderson?" suggested Sam. The man he mentioned
was a farmer living some distance from the college. The boys had once
done the farmer's daughter Minnie a great favor, saving her from insults
at the hands of Jerry Koswell and Dudd Flockley.
"That's the talk!" cried Tom. "He'll take care of it and let us put it
together in one of his open fields. Then we can make the fellows at
Brill open their eyes."
The new idea pleased all the youths immensely, and the next day a long
letter of explanation was sent to Mr. Sanderson, and he was asked to
telegraph a reply. The biplane was taken apart and packed up for
transportation, and then the boys packed their trunks and dress-suit
cases, and got ready to "go back to the greasy grind," as Tom expressed
it.
It must not be supposed that the lads had forgotten to write to the
Stanhopes and the Lanings, and to their college friends. Numerous
letters had been mailed and about an equal number had been received. The
girls were all going to Hope, but one week later than the boys would
have to depart for Brill. Nothing more had been seen or heard of
Crabtree or Sobber, for which all were thankful.
"Here's a letter from William Philander Tubbs," said Tom. "I sent him a
letter just for fun, asking him the style in socks this fall. Listen to
his reply." And he read the following:
"I have been making diligent inquiries about the shades in
socks, my dearest Thomas, but the storekeepers seem to be a
little undecided. Some think that Rambler Red will prevail
while others favor Nile Green and a new shade called Baby's
Breath. Personally I favor Baby's Breath and have purchased
one dozen of that shade. If I get any more definite news
about shades I will wire you, because I know what a dreadful
thing it is not to have the shade that is really and truly
fashionable."
"Three cheers for William Philander and his Baby's Breath socks!" cried
Sam. "He's the true and only artist!"
"Baby's Breath!" murmured Tom. "Now wouldn't that get your scalp-lock?"
And then there was a merry laugh all around.
There was likewise a letter from Max Spangler, and another from Stanley
Browne, stating they were already on their way to Brill. Then, just
before the boys were ready to leave home, came a letter from Songbird
Powell.
"I'll bet it's in verse," said Dick. "Songbird couldn't write prose to
save his life."
"We'll soon see," said Sam, who held the communication, and he tore it
open. "You win," he added, and then read the following, after the date
line:
"My dearest boys
I'm filled with joys
To think that we
Together shall be
In a week or more!
Oh, the fun in store!
And also the work--
Which we can't shirk--
And the pleasant meetings,
And pleasant greetings,----"
"He was thinking of Minnie Sanderson when he wrote that," interrupted
Tom.
"Sure thing," returned Dick; for all of the Rovers knew that the
would-be poet was deeply smitten with the farmer's daughter. He had
written several poems about her, and had also given her several
presents.
"Well, there are twelve pages of the doggerel," said Sam, glancing over
the sheets. "Here, you can read over my shoulders," and this was done,
amid much merriment. Songbird had but little news and promised to be at
college when they arrived.
"Oh, I hope the _Dartaway_ carries us there in good shape," murmured
Tom. "It will be an arrival worth remembering!"
Before he left home Dick had a long talk with his father and his Uncle
Randolph. When he rejoined his brothers he was unusually sober.
"What is it, dad's business affairs?" queried Sam.
"Yes, Sam."
"Are they in bad shape?" questioned Tom, quickly. "What's gone wrong?"
"It's something about those mining shares that dad and Uncle Randolph
invested in," answered Dick. "I'll give you the particulars later. They
don't want Aunt Martha to know about it, for it will only make her worry
without doing any good. I'm afraid dad and Uncle Randolph are in it
bad," went on Dick, soberly.
"Can't something be done?" asked Tom.
"Not just now. Dad is going to Chicago about it next week again."
"Does he and uncle stand to lose much?" questioned Sam.
"Yes, a good deal--more in fact than they can afford."
"Phew! That's too bad!" murmured the youngest Rover, and Tom shook his
head soberly, and forgot all about the parting jokes he had intended to
play on Aleck Pop and Jack Ness.
At last came the time for the three Rover boys to leave home. The
biplane had been shipped to Ashton by express and their trunks and suit
cases had been forwarded on their railroad tickets. They were going a
day ahead of time, and Mr. Sanderson had agreed to meet them and take
them to his home.
"Good bye, my boys," said the fond father, on parting. "Take good care
of yourselves."
"We will," they answered as they shook hands.
"Learn all you can," put in Randolph Rover.
"Take care and don't get into trouble," admonished Mrs. Rover, and then
she kissed them tenderly.
"Don't forget to let me know how matters go in Chicago, dad," whispered
Dick, to his parent.
"I'll remember, my son."
"And if I can aid you in any way, let me do it,--even if I have to leave
Brill," went on Dick.
"There is nothing to do at present, Dick. I must wait for that report."
Soon the boys were in the touring car, with Jack Ness to bring the
automobile back from the railroad station, he now being able to run the
machine. Dick was at the wheel. Tom had cranked up, and off they sped,
with a merry shout and with those left behind waving their hands.
"Let her go, Dick!" sang out Tom.
"Good bye!" yelled Sam.
"Good bye!" came back faintly from the homestead.
Then a turn of the road shut out the house from view. Once again the
Rover boys were off for college. Little did they dream of the strange
adventures in store for them.