The Rover Boys in Alaska: or, Lost in the Fields of Ice

"Say, Sam, this is strange. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know – telegraph to Dick and send out a general alarm, I guess."

"You don't think he simply ran away, do you?"

"What, without telling me? You know better than that, Songbird."

"Then he must have wandered off while he was out of his mind. Maybe he's somewhere in the woods around here."

"Maybe. I only hope he isn't hurt."

"Well, if I can do anything, let me know," answered Songbird, and stepped back into his room to dress.

As soon as possible Sam went to Doctor Wallington and talked the matter over with the head of Brill. The worthy doctor knew about the case already and was all sympathy.

"We had better send out a general alarm," he said. "And you can notify your folks. It was a mistake to let your brother come back here so soon after being hurt. You can take one of the carriages and drive down to Ashton at once, if you wish, and also drive around to some of the other places in this vicinity. Somebody must have seen your brother after he left here, or after Mr. Sanderson saw him."

"Would you mind if I take John Powell with me?" asked Sam. "I may need somebody to help me."

"Very well, Rover, he can go if he wishes."

"To be sure I'll go," said Songbird, when told of this. "And we'll find Tom, see if we don't," he added, by way of cheering Sam.

Sam waited until nine o'clock to see if Tom would show himself and then he and Songbird drove over the Ashton. A search lasting the best part of an hour followed, but nothing new was learned. Then, rather reluctantly – for he knew that Dick was having trouble enough attending to their father's affairs – he sent a telegram to his big brother, telling of Tom's disappearance, and adding that he would telegraph again, if anything new turned up.

In driving over to Hope Seminary Mr. Sanderson had pointed out to Sam the spot where he had seen – or thought he had seen – Tom. Sam now determined to visit that spot and see if from that point he could not get on the trail of his brother.

The place was near a turn of the road and just beyond was another road. At the forks stood an old stone house, wherein lived an old basketmaker named Rater. The girls of Hope often bought baskets from the man just to help him along.

Sam and Songbird found Rater sitting on a side porch of his home, with his basket-making materials scattered around him. He was a tall, thin man, somewhat deaf, but with a pair of sharp eyes.

"Come to buy a basket?" he asked, briskly.

"No, I came for a little information, if you can give it, Mr. Rater," replied Sam.

"What do you want to know?"

"Were you here yesterday?"

"I sure was – all day long."

"Did you see anything of my brother?" went on Sam. "He is a little larger than I am, and here is his picture," and the youngest Rover produced a photograph he had brought along.

The old basketmaker looked at the photograph carefully.

"Why, yes, I see that feller," he said slowly. "He stopped at my gate fer a minute or two. He acted sort o' strange."

"In what way?"

"He didn't speak to me, he spoke to hisself. Said something about a basketful o' nuggets. I asked him if he wanted to buy a basket, but he only shook his head an' said somethin' about wantin' to git the nuggets o' gold first. Then, all of a sudden like, he ran away."

"And which way did he go?" asked Sam, with interest.

"Up the Hoopville road," and the old basketmaker pointed to the side road which ran past his home.

"Did he have any baggage with him?" questioned Songbird.

"Nary a thing."

"Thank you for the information," said Sam, and passed over a quarter, which Rater pocketed with a broad smile. Ready money was scarce with him.

"We'll drive to Hoopville," said Sam, a minute later, as he and Songbird got in the buggy. "And we'll ask about Tom on the way."

A quarter of a mile was passed and they came to a lonely spot on the highway. Here, the only building in sight was a half tumbled down cottage belonging to a man named Hiram Duff. Duff pretended to be poor, but common report had it that he was a miser and fairly well to do.

"Going to stop here?" questioned Songbird, as they drove near.

"We might as well," returned Sam. "Old Duff is a tough customer, but in this case – "

He did not finish for at that instant a muffled cry came from the old cottage, startling both boys.

CHAPTER XII

AT HIRAM DUFF'S COTTAGE

"What can that be?"

"Must be somebody in trouble!"

"Maybe it is old Duff!"

"Let us go and see!"

With these hasty exclamations both boys leaped from the carriage they occupied and ran towards the delapidated cottage. The cries continued, coming from somewhere in the interior.

"Wait – we'll look in the window first," suggested Sam. "Maybe old Duff is having a quarrel with one of his neighbors, and if so it might not be wise to interfere."

There was a window with small panes of glass close at hand, and going to this the two youths peered into the cottage. To their surprise they could see nobody. Both lower rooms of the old building seemed to be unoccupied.

"Let's go around to the rear. Maybe the sounds come from there," suggested Songbird.

There was a path full of weeds leading to a rear porch that was almost ready to fall down. The back door stood partly open. Nobody was in sight.

"The call comes from somewhere inside," said Sam. "Come on in. But be on your guard, Songbird. We don't want to get into trouble."

Both lads crossed the rickety porch and entered what was the kitchen of the cottage. A musty odor pervaded the building, for old Duff usually kept everything tightly closed.

The place was in disorder, a chair being overturned and several cooking utensils littering the floor. On the stove, which was cold, lay a big carving knife.