The Rover Boys Down East: or, The Struggle for the Stanhope Fortune

“A home run! A home run!” reached his ears. “Everybody in the game!” And then, to his utter amazement, Tom appeared, running in a queer fashion. He was headed directly for the lake.

“He’s asleep! He’s got a nightmare!” thought Dick, and as Tom attempted to pass him he caught his brother by the arm.

“Let go – I want to reach home plate!” growled the sleepwalker, and tried to break away.

“Tom! Tom! wake up!” cried Dick, and retaining a firm grip on his brother’s arm he shook him vigorously.

“Oh!” groaned Tom at last. “I – what – stop shaking me!” he added, in confusion.

“Wake up, Tom! Wake up!”

“I – er – I am awake! What are you shaking me for?” demanded the fun-loving Rover. He could see no fun in the present proceedings.

“Tom, you’ve been walking in your sleep,” said Dick. He raised his voice. “This way, fellows; I’ve found him!”

“Where is he?” and Sam came running, followed by Fred and Hans.

“Have I – er – really been walking in my sleep?” asked Tom, sheepishly.

“Doesn’t this look like it?”

“Why, where am I?”

“Up the lake shore. We missed you and hurried out to find you. You were just going to run into the lake when I grabbed you.”

“Was he really walking in his sleep?” asked Sam.

“Yes, unless he was shamming,” answered his elder brother.

“I wasn’t shamming,” stammered poor Tom. “I – er – I was dreaming about a ball game, and I was – er – trying to make a home run! Say, this is punky, isn’t it?” he added, staring at the crowd, blankly.

“It’s a good thing Dick came up in time,” said Sam. “Supposing you had run into the lake.”

“Oh, I guess the bath would have woke him up,” said Dick. “But I am mighty glad I stopped him,” he added.

“You’re not more glad than I am,” said Tom. “I guess I ate too much supper. I couldn’t sleep at all at first.”

“I guess you had better chain yourself fast in the tent after this,” remarked Fred. “Dick, it was lucky you woke up.”

“Something pressed me on the ankle. It’s a little sore yet. I guess Tom stepped on it when he left the tent – but I didn’t wake up fast enough to catch him then.”

All walked back to the tent and sat down around the campfire to talk the matter over. But nothing new was learned and presently they retired again; and this time all slept soundly until morning.

“First in the lake for a morning plunge!” shouted Sam, as he rushed out. “Come on, everybody, it will wake you up!”

“I’m with you, Sam!” answered Fred, and side by side the pair ran down to the water and plunged in.

“Phew! as cold as Greenland!” spluttered Fred, as he came up.

“It’s only the first plunge,” answered the youngest Rover. “You’ll soon get used to it.”

The others followed, Hans being the last to go in. The German youth was on the point of backing out, as the water looked so cold, when Sam came up behind him and sent him in with a rush.

“Wow! wow!” spluttered Hans. “Say, maype dot ain’t cold, py chiminy! I vos dink I fell into an ice-house alretty!”

“Swim around and you’ll soon get warm,” was Dick’s advice.

The boys remained in the water less than ten minutes and then lost no time in dressing. Then came a hot breakfast, to which all paid every attention.

It had been decided that they should spend the day in fishing and in resting up, so they took it easy. Some went out in the boat and took a short sail, for a fair breeze was blowing.

“This puts me in mind of the times we used to camp out with the Putnam Hall cadets,” remarked Tom. “Only there used to be more of a crowd.”

For dinner they had more fish, and also some beans which had been brought along. They also made a pot of chocolate – something that suited Hans especially – and the cookies were not forgotten.

Two days passed, and the boys enjoyed every minute of the time. They took a tramp through the woods back of the camp and found a blackberry patch where the luscious fruit was growing in profusion.

“We’ll take all we can carry back to camp with us!” cried Sam, and this was done, and then the youngest Rover took it upon his shoulders to make a huckleberry roly-poly pudding, “just like Aunt Martha’s.” Perhaps the pudding was not as good as those turned out by Mrs. Rover, but it was good enough, and the boys ate it to the last scrap. Then Fred tried his hand one morning at flapjacks and these they also ate with a relish.

“I dink I makes you some Cherman coffee cake alretty,” said Hans, on the day following, and in the afternoon he set to work. Soon he had several kettles, pans and pails filled with flour and water and other things. His hands were full of a pasty mess, and he had some of the stuff on his nose.

“How are you getting on?” asked Dick, when he saw the German youth stop and stare around in perplexity.

“I dink I need anudder dish,” said Hans, slowly.

“Great Scott, Hans! You now have about all in the camp.”

“Is dot so! Vell, I must but dis stuff someveres, ain’t it?” And Hans proceeded to dump the mass in one bowl with that in another. The other lads watched him work with keen interest.

“Want more sugar, Hans?” asked Sam.

“How about salt?” questioned Fred.

“Maybe you want a little more flour?” came from Dick.

“Want to flavor it with peppermint?” asked Tom. “I saw a lot of the stuff growing back of the spring.”

“You chust leave me alone!” cried Hans. “Ton’t you podder me, oder I makes some mistake.”

“I guess he has made several mistakes already,” whispered Dick to Fred, as they turned away.

“Shouldn’t wonder. But wait and see what he turns out.”

They all waited and watched Hans from a distance. The poor German youth worked hard for two hours, baking his stuff over the roaring fire. His face was flushed and he looked far from happy. At last he declared that his coffee cake must be done.

“It certainly looks like coffee,” said Tom, as he gazed at the mass, which was shaped like a flower pot and was the color of roasted coffee beans.

“All right, Hans, cut it up and let us try it!” cried Fred, cheerfully.