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

“Can’t you see that I am?”

“How did you get here?” asked Larkspur, who had come up. “We didn’t see you land.”

“Oh, I came in a – er – in a motor boat, run by a friend of mine. He – er – he said he would call for me later,” stammered the stranger.

The Rover boys listened to this conversation with interest, and gradually drew closer, as the stranger came from the rocks to talk to Darkingham and the others.

“Say, are you the fellow who abducted a lady!” cried Larkspur.

At this direct question the stranger started. “Why – er – what makes you ask – er – that question?” he stammered.

“We know some fellows who are looking for a lady who was abducted – at least, that is the story they told,” answered Koswell.

“Where did you see those fellows?” asked the stranger, and now he was plainly excited.

“They were here awhile ago.”

“Here – on this island?”

“At the dock – but they didn’t land – we didn’t let ’em,” said Larkspur.

“Humph!” The stranger was thoughtful for a moment. “No, I don’t know anything about a lady who was abducted,” he said slowly. “I am just roaming around a bit. As soon as my friend comes back with the motor boat I’ll leave the island. If I had known it was private property I shouldn’t have come ashore at all.”

“Oh, I don’t mind a fellow roaming around a little,” said Alfred Darkingham, loftily. “But we came here to camp out, and of course we prefer to have the island to ourselves.”

“I see. Well – er – I shan’t disturb you. I – er – left my fishing outfit on the opposite shore. I’ll go and get it, and then I’ll be ready to leave as soon as my friend comes for me.”

“Oh, you needn’t be in such a tremendous hurry, Mr. – ”

“Smith – plain John Smith,” filled in the stranger. “I’m stopping at Peak’s Island.”

“My name is Alfred Darkingham. These are my friends, Jerry Koswell and Bart Larkspur.”

“Koswell!” cried the stranger, in considerable surprise. “Did you say Jerry Koswell.”

“Yes.”

“Did you – were you a student at Brill College?” asked the man who had given his name as John Smith.

“Why, yes,” was the reply. “But I don’t remember you.”

“No, for you never met me. But I have heard of you, and I think I have heard of your friend, Mr. Larkspur. Didn’t you once have some trouble with some fellow students named Rover?”

“Yes,” answered Larkspur, and his brow darkened.

“Pretty bad trouble, too, wasn’t it?”

“Bad enough,” growled Koswell. “Are you a friend to the Rovers?” he added, suspiciously.

“Oh, no, I don’t know them. But I heard of the trouble.”

“It was the Rovers’ fault,” said Jerry Koswell, sourly. “They put it off on us, but they were to blame. We might have gone back to Brill, but we didn’t think it was worth while; did we, Bart?”

“No, we had enough of the grind as it was,” answered Larkspur, glibly.

“Great Scott! just listen to that!” whispered Tom to his brothers. They were behind some nearby bushes and could catch every word that was spoken.

“Hush! or they may hear you,” was the warning, from Dick.

“Didn’t you once get a letter or two from a party named Tad Sobber?” went on the fellow who called himself John Smith.

“I did!” cried Jerry Koswell. “Then you know Sobber?”

“Supposing I told you that I did?” And the strange man eyed Koswell narrowly.

“Sobber wanted me to help him get square on the Rovers,” went on Jerry Koswell.

“But you didn’t want to help him, is that it?”

“Yes, I did want to help him. I sent him a long letter to that effect, but he never answered it.”

“A letter that you would help Sobber?”

“Sure. The Rovers treated me dirt mean, and I’d go out of my way a good deal to get square.”

“So would I!” cried Larkspur.

“I don’t believe Sobber ever got your letter,” went on the stranger. “He told me he had waited to hear from you but you hadn’t answered.”

“Then the letter got lost,” answered Jerry Koswell. “I am sorry if it did, for I wanted to fix the Rovers.”

“And so did I,” echoed Larkspur.

“Well, maybe you can fix them yet,” went on the fellow who had called himself John Smith. “You say you are going to camp out here?”

“Yes.”

“Then I may see you again in the near future. I am going to Peak’s Island and then to Portland, and I may see Tad Sobber, and if I do, I’ll tell him what you’ve said.”

“Do it!” cried Koswell promptly. “And tell him I am willing to help him all I can against the Rovers.”

“And tell him that Bart Larkspur will help him, too,” supplemented that individual.

“All right,” answered the stranger. “Of course you know it might be a – er – a little risky, getting the best of those Rovers.”

“Oh, we’ll take a little risk,” answered Koswell. “But, say!” he almost shouted. “I begin to smell a mouse!”

“Eh?”