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The Rover Boys In New York
Saving Their Father's Honor
by Arthur M. Winfield
My Dear Boys: This volume is a complete story in itself, but forms the seventeenth in a line issued under the general title of "The Rover Boys Series for Young Americans."
As I have mentioned several times, in other volumes, this line was started with the publication of "The Rover Boys at School," "On the Ocean" and "In the Jungle." The cordial reception afforded the stories called for the publication of the next volume, "The Rover Boys Out West," and then, year after year, by the issuing of "On the Great Lakes," "In Camp," "On Land and Sea," "On the River," "On the Plains," "In Southern Waters," "On the Farm," "On Treasure Isle," "At College," "Down East," and then by "In the Air," where we last met them.
The boys are not as young as they once were-- indeed, in this book, Dick, the oldest, gets married and settles down to business. But all are as bright and lively as ever, and Tom is just as full of fun. When they go to New York City they have some strenuous times, and all prove their worth in more ways than one. Their father is in deep trouble and they aid him, and clear up quite a mystery.
Up to this writing, the sale on this line of books is but a trifle short of one million and a quarter copies! This is to me, of course, tremendously gratifying. Again, as in the past, I thank my many readers for their interest in what I have written for them; and I trust the perusal of my works will do them good.
Affectionately and sincerely yours,
Arthur M. Winfield. _________________________________________________________________
THE BOYS AT BRILL
"Boys, what do you say to a trip in the Dartaway this afternoon?"
"Suits me, Sam," replied Tom Rover.
"Providing the breeze doesn't get too strong," returned Dick Rover, as he put up his hand to feel the air.
"Oh, I don't think it will blow too much," went on Sam Rover. "I don't mind some air."
"But no more storms for me!" cried his brother Tom, with a shake of his head. "That last old corker was enough for me."
"Where shall we go?" questioned Dick, with a queer little smile creeping around the corners of his mouth.
"Oh, my, just to hear Dick!" cried Tom, with a grin. "As if he would go anywhere but to Hope Seminary, to call on Dora!"
"And as if you would go anywhere but to call on Nellie, at the same place!" retorted the oldest Rover boy.
"Now, children, children'" came sweetly from Sam. "You mustn't quarrel about the dear girls. I know both of you are as much gone as can be. But----"
"And how about Grace, Sam?" said Tom. "Didn't I hear you making up some poetry about her yesterday, 'Those limpid eyes and pearly ears, and'----"
"Rats, Tom! I don't make up poetry-- I leave that to Songbird," interrupted the youngest Rover boy. "Just the same, it will be nice to call on the girls. They'll be looking for us some day this week."
"That's right-- and maybe we can give them a little ride," put in Dick Rover.
"Do you remember the ride we gave Dora and Nellie, when we rescued them from Sobber, Crabtree, and the others?" asked Tom.
"Not likely to forget that in a hurry," answered his big brother. "By the way, I wonder when the authorities will try those rascals?"
"Not right away, I'm thinking, Dick," answered Tom. "The law is rather slow up here in these back counties."
"Never mind-- they will get what is coming to them sooner or later," was Sam's comment.
"Abduction is rather a serious offense."
"Right you are," answered Dick. "And I'll be glad to see Crabtree, Sobber, and our other enemies behind the bars. Then they won't be able to bother us any more."
"That will he the end of Sobber's efforts to annex the Stanhope fortune," mused Sam. "How hard he did try to get it away from Mrs. Stanhope and the girls!"
"I shouldn't have minded that had he used fair methods, Sam," returned the big brother. "But when it came to stealing and abducting----"
"Hello, you fellows!" shouted a voice from behind the Rover boys. "Plotting mischief?"
"Not just now, Stanley," answered Dick, as his college chum caught him by the shoulder and swung him around playfully.
"Want to go for a row on the river?" asked Stanley Browne.
"Not just now, Stanley. I've got a lecture to attend, and this afternoon we are going over to Hope in the biplane."
"Wish I had a flying machine," said the student, wistfully.
"Better swap the boat for one," suggested Sam.
"No, I think rowing is safer. Some day, if you are not careful, you'll get an awful tumble from that machine."
"We try to be as careful as possible," answered Dick. "Seriously, though, Stanley, I don't care for flying as much as I thought I would."
"Is that so? Now, I thought you were planning a honeymoon trip by aeroplane. Think of the novelty of it!"
"No, a steamboat or a parlor car will be good enough for me, when I go on a honeymoon trip," answered Dick, and for a very good reason he blushed deeply.
"Hello, William Philander Tubbs!" cried Tom, as a tall, dudish-looking student crossed the college campus. "What's the price of eggs this morning?"
"What is that, Tom?" questioned the stylishly-dressed youth, as he turned in the direction of the others.
"I asked what was the price of eggs?" said Tom, innocently.
"The-- er-- the price of eggs? How should I know?" stammered William Philander Tubbs" in astonishment.
"Weren't you in the chicken business once?"
"Gracious me! No, Tom, no!"
"Funny I made the mistake-- and I want to know the price of eggs the worst way," went on the fun-loving Rover, innocently.
"What do you want to know the price of eggs for?" questioned William Philander, curiously.
"Why, you see, we've got a new problem in geometry to solve, and the price of eggs will help out," continued Tom, looking very serious.
"What is it, Tom?"
"It's this, Tubby, my boy. If the diameter of an egg ten degrees west of its North Pole is two and eleven-tenths inches, what is the value of the shell unfilled? I thought you might help me out on that."
"Tom, you are poking fun at me!" cried the dudish student, as a snicker went up from the other youths. "And please don't call me Tubby, I beg of you," pleaded William Philander.
"All right, Billy Gander," murmured Tom. "It shan't occur again."
"Billy Gander! That is worse than Tubby!" groaned the dudish youth. "Oh, you are awful!" he added, and strode off, trying to look very indignant.
"Poor Tubbs, I wonder if he will ever be sensible and get over his dudish ways," was Dick's comment.
"I doubt it-- for it seems to be born in him," returned Sam.
"But he's a good sort with it all," ventured Stanley Browne.
"First-rate," agreed Tom. "But I-- well, I simply can't help poking fun at him when he's around, he's such a dandy, and so lordly in his manner."
"Here comes Songbird!" interrupted Sam. "And, see, he is writing verses, as usual. I wonder----"
"Look!" exclaimed Dick. "Oh! There's a collision for you!"
William Philander Tubbs had started across the campus with his head high in the air. He was looking to one side and did not notice the approach of another student, who was coming forward thoughtfully, carrying a pad in one hand and writing as he walked. There was a sudden meeting of the pair, and the pad fell to the ground and with it
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