The Rover Boys in the Jungle Part 12

Some of the boys wished to speak to him, but this was not permitted. Soon the turnout was out of sight.

"You may think I am hard with him," said Captain Putnam, later on, "but to tell the truth he does not come from a very good family and he has a step-brother already in prison."

"Aleck can't be held responsible for his stepbrother's doings,"

murmured Tom, but not loud enough for the master to hear him.

A diligent search had been made for the other stolen articles, but nothing more was brought to light. If Pop had taken the things he had either hidden them well or else disposed of them.

It was nearly nightfall when Peleg Snuggers drove back to the Hall. d.i.c.k and Tom met him just outside the gates and saw that the man-of-all-work looked much dejected.

"Well, Peleg, is he safe in jail?" called out Tom.

"No, he ain't," was the snappy reply.

"Why, what did you do with him?" questioned d.i.c.k quickly.

"Do? I didn't do nuthin--not me. It was him as did it all--cut that blessed rope and shoved me over the dashboard on to the hosses!" growled Snuggers.

"Do you mean to say he got away from you?" asked Tom.

"Yes, he did--got away like a streak o' fightnin', thet's wot he did, consarn him!" And without another word Peleg drove to the rear of the Hall, put his team in the barn, and went in to report to Captain Putnam.

Another row resulted, and this nearly cost the utility Man his position. But it appeared that he was not so much to blame that Alexander Pop had taken him unawares and finally he was sent away to his work with the caution to be more careful in the future.

Before night and during the next day a hunt was made for the colored man, but he had left the vicinity entirely, gone to New York, and shipped on one of the outward-bound ocean vessels. The Rover boys fancied that they would never see him again, but in this they were mistaken.

CHAPTER IX

THE ROVER BOYS ON WHEELS

"Say, fellows, but this is the greatest sport yet!"

"I feel like flying, Tom," said d.i.c.k Rover. "I never thought wheeling was so grand."

"Nor I," came from Sam Rover. "Where shall we go this afternoon?"

It was several weeks later, and the scholars were having a half-holiday. Just six days before, Randolph Rover had surprised his three nephews by sending each a handsome bicycle, and it had taken them hardly any time to learn how to handle the machines.

"Let us take a ride over to Chardale," said d.i.c.k. "I understand that the roads are very good in that direction."

"All right, I'm willing," answered Sam, and Tom said the same.

Soon the three brothers were on the way, d.i.c.k leading and Tom and Sam coming behind, side by side.

It was an ideal day for cycling, cool and clear, and the road they had elected to take was inviting to the last degree, with its broad curves, its beautiful trees, and the mountainous views far to the north and west.

"It's a wonder we didn't get wheels before," observed d.i.c.k. "This beats skating or riding a to bits."

"Just you look out that you don't take a header!" warned Tom.

"This road is all right, but a loose stone might do a pile of damage."

"I've got my eye on the road," answered his big brother. "For the matter of that, we'll all have to keep our eyes open."

To reach Chardale they had to cross several bridges and then descend a long hill, at the foot of which ran the railroad to several towns north and south.

"Come on!" cried Tom, and spurted ahead. With a laugh, Sam tried to catch up to him, but could not. "Now for a coast!" went on the fun-loving Rover, as the hill was gained, and on he started, his wheel flying faster and faster as yard after yard was covered.

"My gracious, Tom! look out or you'll be smashed up!" yelled d.i.c.k.

"Put on your brake!"

"Can't," came back the answer. "I took it off entirely this morning."

This reply had scarcely reached d.i.c.k's ears when another sound came to him which disturbed him greatly.

Far away he heard the whistle of a locomotive as it came around the bottom of the hill. Looking in the direction, he saw the puff of smoke over the treetops.

He tried to cry out, but now the road was rather rough, and he had to pay strict attention 'to where he was riding.

"Tom's going to get into trouble," gasped Sam, as he ranged up alongside of his elder brother. "The road crosses the railroad tracks just below here."

"I know it, Sam. I wish we could make him come back."

As d.i.c.k finished he saw a chance to stop and at once dismounted.

Then he yelled at the top of his lungs:

"Tom, stop! Stop, or you'll run into the railroad train!"

Sam also came to a halt and set up a shout. But Tom was now speeding along like the wind and did not hear them.

Nearer and nearer he shot to the railroad tracks. Then the whistle of the locomotive broke upon his ears and he turned pale.

"I don't want to run into that train," he muttered, and tried to bring his bicycle to a halt.

But the movement did not avail without a brake, and so he was compelled to seek for some side path into which he might guide his machine.

But, alas! the road was hemmed in with a heavy woods on one side and a field of rocks on the other. A sudden stop, therefore, would mean a bad spill, and Tom had no desire to break his bones by any such proceeding.

Nearer and nearer he drew to the railroad crossing. He could now hear the puffing of the engine quite plainly and caught a glimpse of the long train over the rocks to his left. On he bounded until the crossing itself came into view. He was less than a hundred yards from it--and the oncoming engine was about the same distance away!

There are some moments in one's life that seem hours, and the present fraction of time was of that sort to poor Tom. He had a vision of a terrific smash-up, and of d.i.c.k and Sam picking up his lifeless remains from the railroad tracks. "I'm a goner!" he muttered, and then, just before the tracks were reached, he made one wild, desperate leap in the direction of a number of bushes skirting the woods. He turned over and over, hit hard--and for several seconds knew no more.

When d.i.c.k and Sam came up they found Tom sitting in the very midst of the bushes. The bicycle lay among the rocks with the handle-bars and the spokes of the front wheel badly twisted.

"Are you much hurt, Tom?" asked his big brother sympathetically, yet glad to learn that Tom had not been ground to death under the train, which had now pa.s.sed the crossing.

"I don't know if I'm hurt or not," was the 'slow answer, as Tom held his handkerchief to his nose, which was bleeding.