"Hullo!" cried the telegrapher, as he finished and looked up. "Here is
a message for Mr. Randolph Rover hot off the wire. It won't take long
to deliver it," and he handed it over. "It's paid for," he added. "But
you'll have to sign for it," and Mr. Rover did so.
Eagerly all the Rovers read the communication, which ran as follows:
"Am following man I want to catch if possible. May be away from
home several days or a week. Very important to see man--trip this
summer depends upon it.
"ANDERSON ROVER."
"Wonder who the man can be?" mused Dick, after reading the message
twice.
"He has something to do with this matter father was going to tell us
about," returned Sam. "It's certainly a mystery."
"Well, this relieves our anxiety," said Randolph Rover. "So long as I
know nothing has happened, your father can stay away as long as he
pleases."
"But I am dying to know what it is all about," burst out Tom, who was
always impatient to get at the bottom of things. "Uncle Randolph, do
you know what father has in mind to do this summer?"
"He talks about taking a sea trip, but where to I don't know."
"And he wants us to go along?" queried the youngest Rover.
"I believe so, Samuel."
"Hurrah! I'd like a sea trip first-rate."
"Yes, but----" Mr. Rover lowered his voice. "He doesn't want anybody to
know where to. It's some kind of a secret--very important, I
imagine--something to do with a gold mine, or something of the sort. He
did not give me any particulars."
"He said he was going to let us know about it when we got home from the
Hall," said Dick. "I hope he catches his man."
"Wonder who it can be?" came from Tom.
Nobody could answer that question, and in a thoughtful mood the three
Rover boys followed their uncle to the carriage and got in. Then the
team was touched up and away they whirled, out of the village, across
Swift River, and in the direction of Valley Brook farm.
It was a beautiful day in June and never had the country looked finer.
As they swept along the well-kept road Dick drew a deep breath of
satisfaction.
"This air makes a fellow feel new all over!" he declared.
"I suppose you are going to plant and grow some wonderful things this
summer, Uncle Randolph," said Tom. His uncle had studied scientific
farming for years, but had never made any tremendous success of it--in
fact his experiments usually cost him considerably more than they
brought in.
"Well--er--I am trying my hand this year on some Mexican melons said to
be very fine, Thomas," was the reply.
"Mexican melons?" said the fun-loving Tom, innocently. "That puts me in
mind--when I was over to Albany last I saw a pumpkin in a restaurant
window eight feet high and at least ten feet across."
"Is it possible!" ejaculated Randolph Rover, gazing at his nephew
incredulously.
"Sure thing. The pumpkin looked to be good, too. They had a lot of
pumpkin pies set around it, just for an advertisement."
"Thomas, did you measure that pumpkin?"
"No; why should I?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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