The Essential Edward Stratemeyer Collection. Stratemeyer Edward

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      They crossed the island, passing the chestnut trees as they did so. Under one of the trees Dave picked up a letter. It was addressed to Nicholas Jasniff, General Delivery, Rockville.

      "Jasniff must have dropped this when he was nutting," said Dave, as he and the others looked at the address.

      "What is in it?" asked Phil. "It's open; read it."

      "Would that be fair, Phil?"

      "I think so. Jasniff is an enemy, not a friend. It may contain some clew to his doings, and if there is anything underhanded going on we can let the authorities know."

      Dave took out the single sheet that the envelope contained. On it was written, in a sprawling, heavy hand, the following:

      "MY DEAR JASNIFF:

      "I got your leter and I wil do all I can to help you pervided you wil help me on that bussines I meantioned to you. I know we both can make money and hardly anny risks. Beter not come to the office but meet me at Dunns on the River.

      "Yours afectenately, "DR. H. MONTGOMERY."

      "Why, this letter was written by that Doctor Hooker Montgomery, the man whose silk hat we knocked off!" cried Dave.

      "His education seems to be extremely limited," observed Phil. "He'd never stand at the top of the spelling class, would he?"

      "I was asking about him, and he's a regular fakir," said Roger. "He isn't a doctor at all, although he calls himself one. He puts up a number of medicines and calls them 'Montgomery's Wonderful Cures.' I was told that he used to do quite a business among the ignorant country folks, but lately hardly anybody patronizes him."

      "And that is why he is willing to aid Jasniff in some scheme, I suppose," said Phil. "I'll wager it is something underhanded. When are they to meet?"

      "It doesn't say," answered Dave. "But the postmark is a week old, so I presume the meeting is a thing of the past. I guess I'll not keep the letter," he concluded, and cast it on the ground where he had found it.

      Arriving at where the rowboat had been tied up, the three chums looked around carefully, and soon saw footprints leading to a little cove, shaded by tall elderberry bushes. Pushing some of the bushes aside, Dave looked into the water and gave a cry:

      "Here she is, fellows!"

      "Have you really found the boat, Dave?" questioned Phil.

      "Yes. She's at the bottom of the cove. They piled her full of stones and sunk her. They must have had quite a job doing it."

      "And here are the oars!" exclaimed Roger, dragging them from the bushes. "Say, it's going to be cold work getting that boat into shape for use," he added, for the sun was going down and the air was keen.

      "I'll do it, if you don't care to," answered Dave. "A cold plunge will do me good."

      "I'll help, if you say so?" volunteered Phil.

      "Never mind, Phil; I think I can do it alone. No use in more than one undressing."

      The rowboat had been sunk in water three feet deep. Taking off most of his clothing, and also his shoes and socks, Dave waded into the cove and set to work taking the stones out of the craft. It was certainly cold, and only the heavy labor served to keep his blood in circulation.

      "They didn't pound a hole in her, did they?" asked the senator's son, anxiously.

      "I don't see any hole," answered Dave. "I'll soon know. There aren't many more stones left."

      He had great difficulty in budging the bottom stone, the largest of the lot. But, once this was removed, the boat was quite buoyant and came close to the surface. Then Dave shoved the craft close to shore, and turned it over to empty it.

      "As good as ever!" cried Roger, and his tones showed his relief. "Now, Dave, get into your clothes again, and Phil and I will row you back to the Hall. We'll be late--and you know what that means, if Job Haskers catches us."

      "We've got a good excuse," said Phil. "But maybe Haskers won't accept it," he added, remembering only too well how harsh and unreasonable the second assistant teacher could be at times.

      "I think I'll do some of the rowing myself, just to get warm," said Dave, when they got into the craft, and he took an oar; and soon Bush Island was left behind.

      "This is another mark against Merwell and Jasniff," said the shipowner's son, as they pulled in the direction of the school. "I suppose they thought we'd have to stay on the island all night."

      "Yes, and maybe longer," said Dave. "I fancy they wouldn't care if we had to remain there until we were almost starved."

      "We'll have to get back at them somehow," came from Roger.

      It was quite dark when they reached the boathouse at Oak Hall. No students were in sight, all having gone in to supper. Dave looked at his watch.

      "Supper is almost over!" he cried. "We had better hurry if we want anything to eat!"

      "Eat? Rather! I am as hungry as a bear!" cried Phil.

      "So am I," added the senator's son.

      Putting the rowboat away, the three boys started in the direction of the big school building. As they did this they saw somebody approaching them from an angle of the east wing.

      "It's Haskers!" whispered Phil. "He is coming this way!"

      "Let's run for it!" cried Roger. "We can get in on the other side! Quick!"

      "Boys! boys! Stop!" called out Job Haskers, as they started to run. "I know you, Porter! Morr! Lawrence! Stop, I say!" And he came running after them.

      "It's no use, he recognizes us!" groaned Phil, and came to a halt, and so did the others.

      "What is the meaning of this? I demand to know where you have been?" cried Job Haskers, sourly, as he came up, puffing from his unusual exertions.

      "We are sorry, Mr. Haskers, but we were out rowing, and we were detained at Bush Island," explained Dave.

      "Did you have permission to stay away during the supper hour?"

      "No, sir. We didn't intend to do so. We were----"

      "Humph! that is no excuse, young man, no excuse whatever! You know the rule. Go to your rooms at once--and stay there until to-morrow morning." And Job Haskers glared coldly at the three students. He seemed always to take special delight in catching a student at some infringement of the rules, and in meting out punishment.

      "We haven't had any supper yet," said Roger.

      "That is not my fault, Morr. The dining-room is now about to close, and you cannot go in. It will be a lesson to you to be on hand promptly in the СКАЧАТЬ