The Rover Boys in Alaska: or, Lost in the Fields of Ice

"I think we'll send word West about Tom and then try to follow him," answered Sam. "That is why I came here – to notify you that I'd have to leave."

"I shall be sorry to lose you, Samuel. Let us hope that you'll be able to come back in a few days – and that Thomas's case will not prove as bad as we think. I agree that it is best for you to move at once, for there is no telling what your missing brother may do. Can I aid in any way?"

"You may cash a check for me – I may need some ready money, – if Dick doesn't happen to have enough with him."

"I'll do that with pleasure. Anything else?"

"I want to go to Ashton late this evening, to meet Dick. I'll take a suitcase with me."

"One of the men can drive you down. Will your brother come here?"

"Possibly. But both of us may stay in Ashton, to take the one o'clock train for Chicago. It stops on signal, you know."

"Yes. Very well. Anything else?"

"No, sir," answered Sam, and then he wrote out the check and got his money. A little later, after a hasty supper, he started to pack his suitcase with such things as he thought he might need for the trip to Chicago.

He was in the midst of his labors when Songbird came in, followed by Spud, Stanley, Max and several others. All wanted to assist him, yet they could do little. Each was deeply sympathetic.

"It's too bad, Sam," said Spud. "I hope you catch Tom before he has a chance to leave Chicago. Why when a chap gets out of his mind there is no telling what he'll do, or where he'll go."

"Oxactly so," came from Max. "I knowed a man vonce dot goes his mind owid. He took an axe, and – veil neffer mind, Dom ton't do nuddings like dot anyvay," added the German-American student hastily, after a warning look from Songbird.

"I think that moving picture must have hit Tom hard," said Stanley. "It was so lifelike. He talked about it a great deal."

"Yes, he couldn't forget it. He even talked about it in his sleep," returned Sam. "He wanted to go out and get those nuggets of gold."

"Well, I'd like some nuggets myself," cried Spud. "But I am not going to the ice fields of Alaska for 'em," he added, grimly, and this caused a faint smile to spread on some of the boys' faces.

Songbird had received permission to accompany Sam to Ashton, and at nine o'clock the youths were on the way, in a carriage driven by one of the college drivers. They went directly to the depot, there to await the arrival of the train that was to bring Dick.

It was a cold, disagreeable evening, with a promise of rain in the air. The boys were glad enough to go into the station, which was kept open for the coming of the late train.

"Can a fellow get on that one o'clock Chicago train from here?" asked Sam, of the ticket man.

"Yes, if he's got a ticket," was the reply. "I'll have to signal it to stop though."

"Well, I'll let you know about it as soon as I see my brother. He is coming in on the eleven-thirty."

It had begun to rain by the time the last-named train rolled in. Only three passengers got off, but one of them was Dick. He had a suitcase with him, and he fairly ran to meet Sam and Songbird.

"Any more news?" he demanded.

Sam related the particulars of what had occurred. In the meantime the train had gone on and the station was deserted by all but the ticket man.

"Going to lock up now," he said to the boys, who had gathered in the station, out of the rain.

"Wait just one minute please," pleaded Sam.

"Here, go out and get some cigars for yourself," added Dick, and passed over a quarter.

"Thanks, I will," returned the ticket man, and walked off to an all-night resort not far from the station.

"I don't see anything to do but to follow Tom to Chicago," said Dick. "We might send a telegram to the authorities, but I can't see how it would do any good. They don't know him, and in a big city like that it is hard enough to find a fellow when he is well-known. If we take that one o'clock train we'll be in Chicago by morning, and I'd rather look around myself than trust the police to do it."

"All right, I came prepared for the trip," answered Sam, and pointed to his suitcase.

When the station man came back they purchased two tickets for Chicago and the man set out his lantern to signal the express. Then Songbird said good-bye, wishing them all kinds of good luck, and rode back to Brill.

"Sam, this is simply terrible," observed the big brother, as he paced the depot platform, the station master having gone away. "I never thought such a thing as this would come to Tom."

"Neither did I, Dick. Nellie is all broke up over it, too."

"Naturally."

"Did you send word home? I didn't."

"No, I didn't want to worry the folks until the last minute. But Dora knows, and so does Mrs. Stanhope."

"What about Dad's business, Dick? Can you get away from it?"

"I can't get away any too easily, Sam. Things are in a fearful snarl. But I telephoned to Mr. Powell, the lawyer, to look after matters during my absence. I think we've got those brokers under our thumb – at least I hope so. But if we haven't, we stand to lose a bunch of money."

"How much?"

"Twenty or thirty thousand dollars."

"That's too bad. If you think you ought to go back, I might look for Tom alone."

"Don't you dare to mention such a thing, Sam. I think more of Tom than I do of twice that amount of money – and so do you and the rest of the family. Our whole duty is to find Tom, and do it, too, before he gets into more mischief, or gets hurt," concluded the oldest Rover.

Promptly on time the night express bound west came along. It seldom stopped at Brill and the conductor gazed curiously at the two youths as they got aboard. Then the lantern was extinguished and set aside, and the heavy train rolled on.

Fortunately travel was light that night, so the lads had no trouble in getting a section of a sleeper from the Pullman porter. They had only the lower berth made up, and on that laid down, to talk matters over and get some sleep.

"Yes, it must have been that moving picture that set Tom off," said Dick, during the course of the conversation. "And that gives us something like a clue to work on. The main scenes took place in Alaska, and he may be just topsy-turvy enough in his mind to want to find those places. Talking about golden nuggets, and about being on the trail of Bill Stiger, looks like it, anyway."

"I think so myself, Dick. But his mind may change and he may go to Mexico, or Europe," and Sam sighed deeply.

Neither of the boys slept much and both were up almost as early as anybody on the train. More to pass the time than because they felt hungry, they went into the dining car for breakfast.

At last the train rolled into the suburbs of the great city of the lakes and finally came to a stop at the big depot. The youths took up their suitcases and filed out with the other passengers.

"Have you any idea where we ought to look first?" asked Sam.

"I think we may as well leave our bags on check at this depot and look around here," was the answer. "Tom started from here and maybe we'll be lucky enough to meet somebody who saw and remembered him."

Having checked the suitcases, the Rovers started in earnest, asking the men at the news stand and in the smoking room and at the lunch counter and restaurant. Then they questioned the taxicab drivers, and even some of the newsboys and bootblacks.

"It looks almost hopeless," said Sam, at last.

"Not yet," returned Dick. "We haven't struck the most important people yet. Funny we didn't think of them first."

"Whom do you mean?"

"The ticket sellers. Let me have that photo of Tom and we'll see if any of them remember him."

From one ticket window they went to another, until they reached an elderly man, who gazed at the photograph with interest.

"Yes, I remember that young man," he said, slowly. "He was here yesterday afternoon."

"Did he buy a railroad ticket?"

"He did."

"Where to?"

"Seattle."

"Can you remember on what train?" asked Sam.

"Sure. I had to hurry for him, for he took the four-ten train, by way of St. Paul," was the reply.

CHAPTER XV

BOUND WEST

"Well, Sam we have done all we can do for the present."

"That's right, Dick."

"Whether it will do any good or not remains to be seen," and Dick gave a long-drawn sigh and leaned back in the sleeping car seat he occupied.

It was about three hours later and in that time the Rover boys had been very busy.

Following the announcement of the ticket seller that Tom had taken a train for Seattle by way of St. Paul, the Rovers had sent a telegram to the conductor of the train, asking him to look out for Tom and have him detained. They had procured accommodations on the train they were now on, and had so notified the railroad official, so he would know where to address them, provided the missing one was found. They had also sent a telegram to the folks at home and another to the girls at Hope.

"Perhaps we'll get word when we reach St. Paul," said Sam. "For all we know Tom may be there, awaiting our arrival."

"I sincerely hope so, Sam. I'm sure I don't want to go away out to the Pacific coast for him."

"It's too bad Tom didn't buy one of those railroad tickets that a fellow has to sign," observed Sam. "If he had done that, it would be easy to find him."

"That's true."

The train they were on was an express, making but few stops and would reach St. Paul late in the evening. It was only about three-quarters filled, so the Rovers had had no difficulty in getting a section of a sleeper. Whether they would go further than St. Paul was, however, as yet a problem.

"Next stop Milwaukee!" was the cry, and soon the train rolled into that city. Anxiously the two brothers looked out and saw one of the trainmen take several telegrams from a man on the platform. After the train had started again the trainman came through the train.

"Telegrams for Miss Baker, Mr. Josephs and Mr. Rover!" he called out.

"Here you are!" cried Sam, eagerly. "Rover." And the telegram was passed over. Hastily the envelope was torn open and the contents scanned. The boys looked at each other blankly. The telegram read as follows:

"No young man answering to name Tom Rover on this train. Will watch passengers closely as instructed.

"FOLSOM, Conductor."

"What do you make of this, Dick. Maybe Tom didn't use that ticket after he bought it," gasped Sam.

"But that ticket seller saw him rush for the gate. He must have gone on the train, Sam. He probably didn't answer to his name because if he is out of his mind he has forgotten what his real name is. And so long as he keeps quiet the trainmen won't suspect anything wrong with him."

"Perhaps we'll get another telegram at St. Paul."

"I hope so."

On and on rolled the train through the afternoon, coming presently to the shore of the upper Mississippi, with its wide stretches of marshland and its dead trees. It was not an inviting scene, and the two Rovers were glad enough, when the time came, to turn from it and go to the diner for dinner.

There was to be a stop of ten minutes at St. Paul and in that time the boys must make up their minds whether they were going to continue on that train or not. If they laid over, several more hours of precious time would be lost.

It was well towards midnight when the train reached St. Paul and a number of sleepy passengers got off and others got on. Dick and Sam waited impatiently for a messenger to appear. The telegram was there, sure enough, and this time it carried more interesting information.

"Queer-acting young man found, but says his name is Paul Haverlock. Says he is bound for Alaska. Wire positive instructions, as I can take no risks.

"FOLSOM, Conductor."

"It must be Tom!" cried Sam.

"But that name, Paul Haverlock," mused Dick. "Where did he get that?"

"Why, I remember, Dick! In that moving picture the hero was called Paul Haverlock. His name was on the letters they showed on the screen. Tom must have remembered it, just as he remembered the name of the villain, Bill Stiger!"

"I see. Then this Paul Haverlock must really be Tom," returned Dick. "Now to have him stopped. I wonder where that other train is now?"

They found out that the other train was then in the vicinity of Livingston, the junction point for Yellowstone Park. From there it was bound for Helena, Spokane, and then to Seattle direct.

"We'll telegraph again, and keep right on this train," said Dick, and this was done.

If the two youths had slept but little the night before, they were even more restless this night. And yet they realized that Folsom, the conductor of the other train, would not be likely to arouse Tom if he had gone to bed.

"He won't take the chance," said Dick. "Remember, he isn't sure of what he is doing, and all railroad men like to keep out of trouble. If he made a mistake, the passenger might sue the railroad company for big damages, and get them."

"If only we could catch up to Tom!" sighed Sam.

"That is impossible, Sam, because he is on an express, just as we are. As it is, he'll gain on us when he gets to Spokane, for he will go through without waiting, while we'll either have to lay over or go by some other route that is much longer."

As there seemed nothing more to do just then they at last went to sleep, and did not rouse up again until it was broad daylight.

They immediately asked for further news, but were informed that none had come in. Nor did any word come in all that forenoon.

"This suspense is fierce," was Dick's remark, at last. "That conductor is either asleep or has given up the search. I wish I knew of some first-class detective on the other end of the line who could take up the case for us."

"We'd know somebody if Tom was bound for San Francisco," returned his brother. "But I don't know a soul in Seattle – oh, yes, I do!" he suddenly shouted.

"Who, Sam?"

"A fellow named Jim Hendricks. He is a cousin of Stanley Browne, and also a cousin to Larry Colby, who went to Putnam Hall with us. He was at Brill once, for a week, and I got pretty well acquainted with him."

"Why, yes, I remember him. He and I used to talk about what Larry and I did at Putnam Hall. But is he in Seattle now, and have you his address?"

"I think I have his address. Wait, I'll look," end Sam pulled a little notebook out of his pocket. "He asked me to write to him some time, but I never did more than mail him a postal. Yes, here is the address."

"Do you think he would help us, if he was home?"

"Sure I do. He got acquainted with Tom, and he knew what chums Tom and Larry were at the Hall."

"Then we might telegraph him. It won't do any harm anyway."

A rather long telegram was prepared and sent from the next station at which the train stopped. There the youths hoped for another message from Folsom the conductor, but none came.

Slowly the hours dragged by, the express thundering along in the meanwhile on its journey westward. They stopped at Livingston, and there many passengers got off, bound for a trip through that great natural wonderland, Yellowstone Park. At Helena they heard from Folsom again. This time the message was one full of mystery.

"Cannot find Paul Haverlock anywhere. So far as known, he did not leave train at any station. We are very much crowded, account special excursion, and break down of Number 126. Attached two extra cars. He may be hiding among new passengers. I can do no more."

"I think I can explain this," said the conductor of the train, when Dick showed him the telegram. "Number 126, the train just ahead of Number 182, the one your brother is on, broke down. Now, the second train is carrying two cars of the other train, and most likely all of the other train's passengers. So Folsom is having his hands full with his extra duties. In the meantime your brother has disappeared, probably in the crowd of extra passengers."

"If he didn't jump off the train," sighed Sam.

"Would he do that?" asked the railroad man,

"I don't know. A fellow who is out of his mind is liable to do anything."

"That is true."

The train was now in the midst of the Rocky Mountains, but the Rovers had no heart to look at the scenery.

"Oh, if only we get some sort of encouraging word at Spokane!" sighed Sam.

"We ought to hear from Jim Hendricks," answered Dick. "That is, if he is home and got our message." They knew that the Hendricks family were rich and that Jim had a great deal of time to himself.

At Spokane they left the train, for they did not want to go down to Portland, whither it was bound. They asked at the telegraph office for a message and one was handed over to them.

"This is something like it!" cried Dick, as he read it aloud. It ran as follows:

"My sincere sympathy. I remember Tom well and will be on the watch for him. Will meet you on your arrival.

"JAMES V. HENDRICKS."

"Well, that's one word of encouragement," said Sam. "Good for Jim! I thought he'd help us."

"If he only got the message in time to catch Tom," returned his brother. "We were rather late in getting it to him, remember."

"We'll have to hope for the best."

While the boys were waiting around Spokane, for the train to take them to Seattle, they fell in with a commercial drummer who said he was waiting for a companion with some sample cases. He was a kindly-looking man and during the course of his conversation let slip the news that he had been on the train Tom had taken.

"Perhaps you can give us some information," cried Dick. "We are trying to catch a young man who was on that train," and he gave a few of the particulars.

"Well! well!" cried the commercial drummer. "To be sure I met that fellow. The way I noticed him was because he acted so queer. He didn't want to sit still, but kept walking up and down the aisle and from one car to another. I saw the conductor talk to him once or twice, too."

"Where did he go?" questioned Sam.

"Well, you know the train ahead of ours broke down and we hooked fast to some of the cars. When this was done a lot of new passengers got in our cars, and there was something of a mix-up. I saw the fellow go into one of the cars from the other train, and that's the last I did see of him."

"And that train went right through to Seattle?" asked Dick.

"Yes. That is, unless they had more trouble on the line. And by the way, did you hear of what happened on the trip from St. Paul? A lady lost her handbag containing jewelry to the value of ten thousand dollars."

CHAPTER XVI

THE ROVER BOYS IN SEATTLE

Sam and Dick looked at each other in new alarm. They remembered only too well what had occurred at Hiram Duff's cottage. Was it possible that Tom had seen the lady's jewels and taken them? In his unbalanced state of mind he was liable to do anything.

"She had the jewels in her handbag?" questioned Dick.

"Yes, a little black affair – so she told the conductor. When she discovered that it was gone she was almost crazy. She said some of the jewelry belonged to her mother, who was with her."

"Was this in your car?"

"Yes, up at the other end from where I sat, though." And the commercial drummer grinned. "Oh, I had nothing to do with it," he added, lightly.

"I didn't suppose you had," returned Dick. "But where was this other fellow – the one I think was my brother – at this time?"

"Why, he sat up near the other end, too – about two seats from the lady. He said, the same as did everybody on the car, that he hadn't seen the bag or the jewels. The conductor and the porter made a long search, but nothing came of it. The lady was wild, and said she would get her husband to sue the company for her loss. She had the conductor worried, I can tell you."

"And that's why he lost interest in helping us," murmured Dick. "He certainly had his hands full, with that train breakdown and the missing jewels, and looking for Tom."

"Who sat next to the lady?" asked Sam.

"Her mother, a very old woman."

"And was that young man we mentioned next?"

"Yes."

"Couldn't they find any trace of the bag at all?"

"Not a thing. It was mighty queer, and the woman made it worse by being so excited. She could hardly tell when she had seen the bag last, or where. First she said she had had it in her lap and then she said she guessed she had put it on a hook with her coat."

"What did they do about it?"

"I don't know, for I got off here, while the lady and her mother went through to Seattle," answered the drummer.

The commercial man could tell but little more of importance to the Rovers, and presently, when his companion came with the sample cases, he went away.

"Dick, do you think Tom took that lady's handbag with the jewels?" asked Sam, when the two were by themselves.

"Sam, I don't know what to think," was the discouraging reply. "I only know one thing – the quicker we locate Tom and put him in some safe place, the better."

"Do you – you think his mind is affected for good – I mean for always?"

"Let us hope not. Why, it would be terrible to have to keep him in an asylum for the rest of his life! It would just about kill father. And think of Nellie."

"It certainly is the worst thing that ever happened!" muttered Sam. "It's worse than our trouble with Dan Baxter, Lew Flapp, or with Sobber and those brokers, and old Crabtree."

"So it is."

When the train for Seattle finally came in they got abroad. It was so crowded that they had to take seats in a day coach. But this they did not mind. They would have ridden on a freight train, could they have gotten to Seattle faster thereby.

Hour after hour passed slowly. The boys could not settle down to read, and they had little appetite for their meals. They caught a little sleep in their seats, and were ready to leave the train the moment the conductor called out that they were approaching Seattle.

"I see Jim Hendricks!" cried Sam, as he looked out of a window.

"Is Tom with him?" queried his brother.

"No, he is alone."

In a minute more they were out of the train, suitcases in hand, and shaking hands with the cousin of Stanley and Larry. Jim Hendricks' usually jolly face showed his deep concern.

"I've got bad news for you," he said. "That train Tom was on got here before I did, and so I didn't have a chance to stop him. I've been making some inquiries though, and I am pretty certain he reached this place. One man who was on the train told me he had met a young fellow who said he was bound for Alaska to find some nuggets of gold. He wanted to know about the ships that sailed for Sitka and Juneau, and the man told him what he knew. He said the young fellow went off in the direction of the shipping offices."

"Oh, Dick! we must get after him at once!" cried Sam.

"That's it, Sam." Dick turned to Jim Hendricks. "Will you show us where they are? We can go in a taxicab."

"I've got our auto outside – we can go in that, and you may as well bring your baggage along," continued the Seattle young man. "If you have to remain in town, I want you to stay at our house."

"Thanks, that's kind of you," answered Dick.

Jim led the way outside, to where stood a handsome six-cylinder touring car. "I don't know when the steamers sail, but we can soon find out," he said, and directed the chauffeur where to go.

They were soon passing through the streets of Seattle, a well-built up city where much business is done. As many of my young readers must know, Seattle is located on Puget Sound, one of the great natural gateways to the Pacific Ocean. Just south of it is Tacoma, also a city of importance.

The ride to the first of the shipping offices did not take long, and going inside Dick made some inquiries of the clerk at the desk.

"Don't remember any such man," said the clerk.

"When is your next sailing?"

"Day after to-morrow. Want to book for the passage?"

"Perhaps. I don't know yet."

"Better make up your mind pretty quick. We have only a few berths left," went on the clerk.

"We are looking for a certain young man who was bound for Alaska," went on Dick, producing Tom's photograph. "Have you seen anything of him?"

The clerk gave a glance at the photograph and started.

"Well, that's strange!" tie cried.

"You saw him?" put in Sam, eagerly.