"I came as soon as I received the telegram," he answered, as he embraced his aunt. "And how are father and Uncle Randolph?" "Your father is not seriously hurt,--only a twist of his left ankle, where the burglar kicked him. But your Uncle Randolph--" Mrs. Rover stopped and shook her head bitterly. "Not dangerously hurt, I hope," cried Dick, his heart leaping into his mouth, for as we already know, his eccentric old uncle was very dear to him. "Yes, he is seriously hurt, Dick. He was struck in the head, and a fever has set in." "Can I see him?" "Not yet. The doctor says he must be kept very quiet." "But he will recover, aunt?" "I--I hope so, Dick. Oh, it was dreadful!" And the tears rolled down the woman's pale face. "I'm so sorry for you!" he exclaimed, brushing the tears away with his handkerchief. "So sorry. Where is father?" "Up in the bedroom in the wing of the house." "I can see him, can't I?" "Oh, yes." Dick waited to hear no more, but ran up the stairs quickly, yet making no noise, for fear of disturbing his uncle, who was in a front room on the same floor. "Father, can I come in?" he asked in a low voice. "Yes, Dick," was the reply, and he went into the room, to find his father in a rocking chair, with his left foot resting on a stool. Mr. Anderson Rover's face showed plainly that he had suffered considerable pain. "Father, I am so glad it is no worse," he said, as he took his parent's hand. "Aunt Martha tells me Uncle Randolph is seriously hurt." "Yes, he got the worst of it," returned Anderson Rover. "The blow was meant for me, but your uncle leaped in and caught its full force." "And do you know who the robber was?" "No; he had his face well covered." "I think I can tell you." "You, Dick? Ah, you are thinking of that Dan Baxter. It was a man, not a boy; I am sure of that much." "Yes, it was a man, father. It was Arnold Baxter." "Arnold Baxter! You must be dreaming. He is in jail." "No, he has escaped; he escaped about a week ago." "Escaped?" Anderson Rover raised himself up, and would have leaped to his feet hid not his sprained ankle prevented him. "You are certain of this?" "Yes," and Dick related the particulars. "You must be right. The man did look like Baxter, but I thought it impossible that it could be the same." The elder Rover gave a groan. "Then the fat is in the fire for a certainty. And after all my work and trouble!" "What are you talking about now, father?" "That mining claim in Colorado--the Eclipse Mine, as Roderick Kennedy christened it." "But I don't understand?" "It's a long story, Dick. You have beard parts of it, but not the whole, and to go into the details would do you small good." "But I would like to know something, father." "You shall know something, Dick." Mr. Rover drew up his injured foot. "Oh, if only I could go after Arnold Baxter without delay!" "It's too bad you are hurt. Does it pain you very much?"