The Rover Boys on a Hunt Part 1

The Rover Boys on a Hunt.

by Arthur M. Winfield (Edward Stratemeyer).

INTRODUCTION

MY DEAR BOYS: This book is a complete story in itself, but forms the fourth volume in a line issued under the general t.i.tle, "The Second Rover Boys Series for Young Americans."

As mentioned in some volumes of the first series, this line was started years ago with the publication of "The Rover Boys at School," "On the Ocean," and "In the Jungle," in which I introduced my readers to d.i.c.k, Tom and Sam Rover. The twenty volumes of the first series related the doings of these three youths while attending Putnam Hall Military Academy, Brill College, and while on numerous outings.

Having acquired a thorough education, the three young men established themselves in business and were married. Presently d.i.c.k Rover became the father of a son and a daughter, and so did his brother Sam, while Tom Rover became the father of twin boys. The four lads were later on sent to boarding school, as related in the first volume of this second series, ent.i.tled "The Rover Boys at Colby Hall."

From Colby Hall the scene was shifted to "Snowshoe Island," where the lads went for a winter outing. Then they came back to the military academy, and later on partic.i.p.ated in the annual encampment, as related in the third volume, ent.i.tled "The Rover Boys under Canvas."

In the present volume the scene is shifted from lively times at Colby Hall to still more livelier times in the woods, to which the lads journeyed for a season of hunting. They came upon a mysterious house in the forest, and there uncovered a secret which I will leave the pages that follow to relate.

Once more I wish to thank my numerous readers for the many nice things they have said about these "Rover Boys" books. I trust that the reading of the volumes will do them all good.

Affectionately and sincerely yours,

EDWARD STRATEMEYER.

CHAPTER I

THE BOBSLED RACE

"All ready, boys?"

"Wait a minute, Jack."

"Can't wait; life is too short!" cried Jack Rover gayly. He was seated at the front of a long bobsled holding six boys. "Remember, we've got to be back at the Hall in half an hour."

"Please don't mention it!" pleaded Randy Rover, his cousin.

"Hi, you fellows! are you going to race or not?" came from another youth on a bobsled standing close by.

"You bet we're going to race!" sang out Fred Rover, who was at the tail end of the first sled. "And we'll beat you, too, Bill Glutts!"

"You will, like fun!" grumbled the cadet addressed, a rather heavy-set and by-no-means pre-possessing youth. "Come on now, unless you're afraid."

"We're afraid of n.o.body!" sang out Andy Rover, and, leaning sideways from where he sat on the bobsled, he scooped up a handful of loose snow and threw it playfully at Glutts.

"Hi, you! what do you mean?" roared Bill Glutts in anger, as the snow landed directly behind his right ear.

"h.e.l.lo! I guess it must have begun to snow again," cried Randy Rover, mischievously.

"I'll 'snow' you!" retorted Glutts. "I guess you fellows are afraid to race. That's why you are cutting up."

"Never mind--race them anyway, Bill," came from a small, pasty-faced youth, who was usually called Codfish on account of his broad mouth. "Go ahead and show 'em what your new bobsled can do."

"That's the talk!" cried another cadet, a newcomer at the academy. "Show 'em that the _Yellow Streak_ can lick anything on this hill."

"That's a dream that will never come true!" cried Spouter Powell. "Come ahead, Jack, let's start this race," he added to the oldest Rover boy.

The scene was Long Hill, a rise of ground located about midway between Colby Hall Military Academy and the town of Haven Point. There was something of a wagon road leading up the hill from the main highway which skirted Clearwater Lake, and this road had been converted by the cadets of the academy into a slide for their bobsleds.

From the top of the hill the slide ran down and over two smaller hills, then crossed the main highway and shot down another road onto the lake, which at this season of the year was covered with ice.

It was a Sat.u.r.day afternoon, and, as usual, the cadets of the military academy were making the most of their off time, some with bobsleds and other with ordinary handsleds and what were locally called "bread shovels."

For some weeks before this the boys, as well as many other residents in that vicinity, had enjoyed skating on the lake. But a rather wet snow had fallen which the wind had been unable to sweep away, and consequently skating became a thing of the past. Then the lads turned to their bobsleds, the Rovers getting out one they had used the season before. This they painted and varnished very carefully and christened the _Blue Moon_.

"Because, you see," explained Randy, with a wink, "it's only once in a blue moon that she'll be beaten."

The Rovers and their chums, as well as many other cadets and boys and girls from that vicinity, had been using the hill for a couple of hours when the race between the _Blue Moon_ and the _Yellow Streak_ was proposed by Nick Carncross, the new friend of Bill Glutts.

Now, as my old readers know, the Rovers and Bill Glutts were by no means on good terms with each other. In the past Glutts had proved himself anything but a friend, and they had had more than one personal encounter with this freckled-faced bully.

But it was not in the nature of any of the Rover boys to refuse a challenge to race, knowing well that if this was done many would think they were afraid of being beaten. So the challenge was accepted, and immediately the details were arranged.

Each bobsled was to carry six cadets, and they were to start down the hill side by side, the _Blue Moon_ keeping well to the right and the _Yellow Streak_ well to the left. The first sled to cross a mark located out on the lake was to be declared the winner.

With the four Rover boys were their intimate chums, Spouter Powell and Gif Garrison. With Glutts were Codfish, Carncross, and three other of the bully's cronies.

"Gee! I wish I was in that race," came from Will Hendry, who, on account of his unusual stoutness, was always called Fatty.

"Nothing doing, Fatty," remarked Dan Soppinger, another cadet. "You'd make the Rovers lose sure."

"All ready?" questioned Walt Baxter, who had been settled on as the starter of the race.

"All ready," answered Jack Rover, after a glance around to see that nothing was out of order.

"Been ready half an hour," grumbled Bill Glutts.

"All right, then!" cried Walt. "One--two--three--go!"

As he finished Fred Rover, who was at the rear of the _Blue Moon_, gave that bobsled a quick push and leaped aboard. At the same time Carncross sent the _Yellow Streak_ forward and also sprang to his seat. Then, side by side, the two bobsleds moved down the long hill, slowly at first, but gradually gathering speed.

It was five o'clock of an afternoon in early December, and consequently quite dark, even on the snow-clad hills. Many of the smaller children, and also the girls, had gone home, leaving the place to the cadets and a few others.

"I hope we win this," remarked Randy, as the two sleds continued to speed forward side by side.

"Of course we'll win it," came promptly from Gif Garrison.