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

"Seattle."

"Can you remember on what train?" asked Sam.

"Sure. I had to hurry for him, for he took the four-ten train, by way of St. Paul," was the reply.

CHAPTER XV

BOUND WEST

"Well, Sam we have done all we can do for the present."

"That's right, Dick."

"Whether it will do any good or not remains to be seen," and Dick gave a long-drawn sigh and leaned back in the sleeping car seat he occupied.

It was about three hours later and in that time the Rover boys had been very busy.

Following the announcement of the ticket seller that Tom had taken a train for Seattle by way of St. Paul, the Rovers had sent a telegram to the conductor of the train, asking him to look out for Tom and have him detained. They had procured accommodations on the train they were now on, and had so notified the railroad official, so he would know where to address them, provided the missing one was found. They had also sent a telegram to the folks at home and another to the girls at Hope.

"Perhaps we'll get word when we reach St. Paul," said Sam. "For all we know Tom may be there, awaiting our arrival."

"I sincerely hope so, Sam. I'm sure I don't want to go away out to the Pacific coast for him."

"It's too bad Tom didn't buy one of those railroad tickets that a fellow has to sign," observed Sam. "If he had done that, it would be easy to find him."

"That's true."

The train they were on was an express, making but few stops and would reach St. Paul late in the evening. It was only about three-quarters filled, so the Rovers had had no difficulty in getting a section of a sleeper. Whether they would go further than St. Paul was, however, as yet a problem.

"Next stop Milwaukee!" was the cry, and soon the train rolled into that city. Anxiously the two brothers looked out and saw one of the trainmen take several telegrams from a man on the platform. After the train had started again the trainman came through the train.

"Telegrams for Miss Baker, Mr. Josephs and Mr. Rover!" he called out.

"Here you are!" cried Sam, eagerly. "Rover." And the telegram was passed over. Hastily the envelope was torn open and the contents scanned. The boys looked at each other blankly. The telegram read as follows:

"No young man answering to name Tom Rover on this train. Will watch passengers closely as instructed.

"FOLSOM, Conductor."

"What do you make of this, Dick. Maybe Tom didn't use that ticket after he bought it," gasped Sam.

"But that ticket seller saw him rush for the gate. He must have gone on the train, Sam. He probably didn't answer to his name because if he is out of his mind he has forgotten what his real name is. And so long as he keeps quiet the trainmen won't suspect anything wrong with him."

"Perhaps we'll get another telegram at St. Paul."

"I hope so."

On and on rolled the train through the afternoon, coming presently to the shore of the upper Mississippi, with its wide stretches of marshland and its dead trees. It was not an inviting scene, and the two Rovers were glad enough, when the time came, to turn from it and go to the diner for dinner.

There was to be a stop of ten minutes at St. Paul and in that time the boys must make up their minds whether they were going to continue on that train or not. If they laid over, several more hours of precious time would be lost.

It was well towards midnight when the train reached St. Paul and a number of sleepy passengers got off and others got on. Dick and Sam waited impatiently for a messenger to appear. The telegram was there, sure enough, and this time it carried more interesting information.

"Queer-acting young man found, but says his name is Paul Haverlock. Says he is bound for Alaska. Wire positive instructions, as I can take no risks.

"FOLSOM, Conductor."

"It must be Tom!" cried Sam.

"But that name, Paul Haverlock," mused Dick. "Where did he get that?"

"Why, I remember, Dick! In that moving picture the hero was called Paul Haverlock. His name was on the letters they showed on the screen. Tom must have remembered it, just as he remembered the name of the villain, Bill Stiger!"

"I see. Then this Paul Haverlock must really be Tom," returned Dick. "Now to have him stopped. I wonder where that other train is now?"

They found out that the other train was then in the vicinity of Livingston, the junction point for Yellowstone Park. From there it was bound for Helena, Spokane, and then to Seattle direct.

"We'll telegraph again, and keep right on this train," said Dick, and this was done.

If the two youths had slept but little the night before, they were even more restless this night. And yet they realized that Folsom, the conductor of the other train, would not be likely to arouse Tom if he had gone to bed.

"He won't take the chance," said Dick. "Remember, he isn't sure of what he is doing, and all railroad men like to keep out of trouble. If he made a mistake, the passenger might sue the railroad company for big damages, and get them."

"If only we could catch up to Tom!" sighed Sam.

"That is impossible, Sam, because he is on an express, just as we are. As it is, he'll gain on us when he gets to Spokane, for he will go through without waiting, while we'll either have to lay over or go by some other route that is much longer."

As there seemed nothing more to do just then they at last went to sleep, and did not rouse up again until it was broad daylight.

They immediately asked for further news, but were informed that none had come in. Nor did any word come in all that forenoon.

"This suspense is fierce," was Dick's remark, at last. "That conductor is either asleep or has given up the search. I wish I knew of some first-class detective on the other end of the line who could take up the case for us."

"We'd know somebody if Tom was bound for San Francisco," returned his brother. "But I don't know a soul in Seattle – oh, yes, I do!" he suddenly shouted.

"Who, Sam?"

"A fellow named Jim Hendricks. He is a cousin of Stanley Browne, and also a cousin to Larry Colby, who went to Putnam Hall with us. He was at Brill once, for a week, and I got pretty well acquainted with him."

"Why, yes, I remember him. He and I used to talk about what Larry and I did at Putnam Hall. But is he in Seattle now, and have you his address?"

"I think I have his address. Wait, I'll look," end Sam pulled a little notebook out of his pocket. "He asked me to write to him some time, but I never did more than mail him a postal. Yes, here is the address."

"Do you think he would help us, if he was home?"

"Sure I do. He got acquainted with Tom, and he knew what chums Tom and Larry were at the Hall."

"Then we might telegraph him. It won't do any harm anyway."