The Essential Edward Stratemeyer Collection. Stratemeyer Edward

there?"

      None of the boys could answer that question, nor could the gardener enlighten them. Joseph had been coming along the side of the orchard when he had espied the fellow and had called to him, thinking it was some boy from Crumville who had sneaked up to steal some of the orchard fruit. He had been surprised when the fellow dashed away so quickly.

      "Maybe he wasn't alone," suggested Roger. "Let us take a look around."

      This was done, but nobody else seemed to be near. Much disturbed, the three lads walked all over the place, and even down the back road in the direction the intruder had fled.

      "If it was Merwell he must have heard all that was said," remarked the senator's son, gravely.

      "If he did, it won't do him any good," answered Phil. "I don't think he'll hunt for that mine."

      "He may follow us and try to make trouble," returned Dave. "He is very bitter--and so is Job Haskers. They'd put themselves out a whole lot to give us a black eye, so to speak."

      "Oh, I know that."

      Much disturbed, the three youths returned to the house, where Roger put his map and papers in a safe place in his trunk--the one he was to take on the trip West. In the meantime Dave telephoned to the police, telling them that Merwell had been seen in the vicinity of the Wadsworth mansion. He was glad of the fact that Mrs. Wadsworth and the girls had gone out to do some shopping, for he did not wish to alarm them further.

      In the meantime, down the hot and dusty road in the rear of the orchard ran the young fellow who had leaped the fence. It was indeed Link Merwell, sour-faced, and with that same cunning look as of old in his eyes.

      He kept on for fully a quarter of a mile, then suddenly plunged into a strip of woodland. There, beside a large stream of water, were the ruins of an old stone house.

      Link Merwell stopped running and after a stealthy look around, emitted a clear, short whistle. This he repeated twice.

      From behind the ruins of the stone house a man appeared, with a soft hat drawn well down over his forehead. The man was Job Haskers.

      "Back again, eh?" snapped the former teacher of Oak Hall. "Did you do it?" he questioned, curiously.

      "No, I didn't get the chance," answered Link Merwell. He sank on a log and fanned himself with his hat.

      "Humph! Better let it go then. If they see you, they'll be after you."

      "They are after me, Haskers."

      "They are! Then let us get out at once!" And the former teacher plainly showed his nervousness.

      "I'm willing," returned Link Merwell. "I've changed my mind about doing something here," he went on. "We can do something somewhere else--something that will pay us both big."

      "What do you mean?"

      "We can go after a fortune that is coming to Roger Morr's mother. It's the Landslide Mine, and it's lost. Haskers, if we can locate that mine, our fortunes are made! Come on, and I'll tell you all about it while we are getting away from this place. We must go West just as fast as we can make it!"

      CHAPTER XII

      ON THE WAY WEST

      "Off at last!"

      "Hurrah for the West!"

      "And the Landslide Mine, Roger, don't forget that!"

      "What a splendid day for beginning the trip!"

      "Say, we make quite a crowd, don't we?"

      "Wonder if the train will be on time, Dave?"

      "I suppose so. Special excursions are supposed to start on time. Is everybody here, and have we all our baggage?"

      "I've got all of mine," returned Laura. "How about you, Jessie?"

      "I've got my hand-bag. The trunk went with the other trunks."

      "Say, seeing this crowd, puts me in mind of a story," burst out Shadow Hamilton. "Once some tourists--"

      "Oh, Shadow!" came from several in concert.

      "Better keep the story until after we are on the way," cried Dave, gayly. "We'll have plenty of time on the train. It's a four-days' trip to Yellowstone Park, remember."

      "Here comes the train!" was the cry.

      The scene was the Crumville station. The little platform was crowded with the folks who were going on the personally-conducted tour to that place of many wonders, Yellowstone Park. Mr. Basswood was on hand, wearing a blue and gold badge, and so was one of the local ministers, and these two had charge of the tour, these and a railroad official who had to look after connections and meals. In the crowd were the boys and girls, and also Mrs. Wadsworth, Mr. Dunston Porter, and about forty others from Crumville and vicinity. The tour was being run at a very reasonable rate, considering the accommodations afforded, and many were taking advantage of this fact to see Yellowstone Park, with its wonderful geysers, its curious boiling "paint pots," and its bears and buffaloes. The minister had once given a lecture on the Park and this had stimulated curiosity to go and see this land of such natural wonders. It is a great national reservation that every American ought to be glad to visit.

      As the train rolled into the station the crowd got aboard and the porters showed the tourists to their seats. All of the "Porter tribe," as Phil dubbed them, were together. Mrs. Wadsworth and another lady had a stateroom, and next to this Laura and Jessie had a section, with Dave and Roger opposite. Then came the other boys, and Mr. and Mrs. Basswood and Dunston Porter. The Crumville contingent filled two cars, and there were three more cars from neighboring towns. To the front were a baggage and a dining-car and to the rear an observation car.

      "All aboard!" was the cry.

      "Good-by!"

      "Don't forget to write!"

      "Here, Tom, don't forget your valise!"

      "Be sure to look for Brother Jack in Chicago!"

      "Be sure to get some good pictures!"

      "Don't forget some souvenirs!"

      Then came more cries, and the waving of numerous handkerchiefs; and off rolled the excursion train, on its long western trip, Dave waving his cap to his father and Mr. Wadsworth, who had come down to the depot to see the party off.

      It took some little time to settle down on the train. They had left Crumville at half-past ten and almost before the young folks knew it, it was time for lunch. Quite naturally Dave escorted Jessie to the dining-car, while Roger took Laura, and Mr. Dunston Porter looked after Mrs. Wadsworth.

      "I hope the good weather continues," said Jessie, as she sat down with Dave. "It will add so much to the trip."

      "Oh, I've ordered nothing but the best of weather," he replied, with a smile.

      "Tell me, Dave," she whispered, "did you hear anything more about that Link Merwell?"

      "Not a word, Jessie."

      "You are sure it was he who was behind the summer-house that day?"

      "Fairly sure. Of course, we might have been mistaken. But we know he was in Crumville--Laura was sure of that--and it would be just like him to sneak up to our place to see what he could do to annoy or injure us."

      "Oh, if only they would leave you alone, Dave!" and the girl sighed deeply.

      "Don't you worry, Jessie; I can take care of myself."

      The lunch was a delightful one, and with so little to do, the young folks took their time over the repast. Then they drifted back to the