Stratemeyer Edward
The Rover Boys on a Tour: or, Last Days at Brill College

CHAPTER IX
IN WHICH TOM ARRIVES

Tom Rover, tall and broad-shouldered, looked the picture of health as he came toward his younger brother and Songbird. He smiled broadly as he shook hands with them.

"Why, Tom! What brings you here?" remarked Sam. "You didn't write about coming on."

"Oh, I thought I'd just drop in and surprise you," returned Tom. "You know I can't quite get used to being away from Brill," he continued, with a grin.

"Want to get back to your studies, I suppose," was his brother's dry comment. "Well, come ahead; you can help me on a theme I am writing on 'Civilization in Ancient Central America.'"

"Wow! that sounds as interesting as a Greek dictionary!" cried Tom. "Thank goodness! I don't have to worry my head about themes any more. But just the same, Sam, don't make any mistake. I am as busy these days as I ever was in my life, trying to help Dick and dad to put our new organization on its feet."

"And how is that getting along?"

"Fine. We incorporated this week and have our papers, and now I am the secretary of The Rover Company," and Tom strutted around with his thumbs under his arms. "Some class to me, eh?"

"And what is Dick?" questioned Songbird, curiously.

"Oh, Dick is treasurer," answered Tom. "Dad, of course, is president, but he expects to hold that position only until Sam comes in. Then Dick is to become president; myself, treasurer; and Sam, secretary."

"Say! that's all right," responded the youngest Rover, his face showing his satisfaction.

"That is, provided you want to come in, Sam. Dad doesn't want you to give up your idea of becoming a lawyer unless you want to."

"Oh, I might become a lawyer and remain secretary of the company too," was the answer. "One thing is sure, if you and Dick are going to remain in that company you'll have to take me in."

"Well, what's the news?" went on Tom. "Had any fun lately? How is Grace?" and he looked rather sharply at his brother.

"Oh, Grace is all right," answered Sam. He hesitated a moment. "I suppose you didn't get the letter I sent to you and Dick yesterday – the letter about Songbird here?"

"Why no. I left the office night before last."

"Songbird is in trouble, Tom," returned the brother. "Are you going up to the college? If you are you can go with us in the automobile and we'll tell you all about it on the way."

"Yes, I'll go up, and I might as well take my grip with me, for maybe I'll stay over until to-morrow if they have room for me," and thus speaking Tom turned back to the railroad station to get his dress-suit case. The three youths were soon on their way to Brill, and as Sam manipulated the car he and Songbird gave the new arrival the details concerning the attack. Tom, of course, listened with deep interest.

"That's a rank shame, Songbird!" he cried, at the conclusion of the narrative. "I know just how you feel. If I could get my hands on that Blackie Crowden, I think I'd put him in the hospital first and in prison afterward."

"I told Songbird not to worry as far as the money was concerned," went on Sam. "If that old fellow who holds the mortgage won't wait for his money, I told Songbird that I thought we could get our folks to advance the cash."

"Sure thing!" responded Tom, promptly. "You give me the details and I'll see about the money when I go back."

"Mr. Sanderson said he would know about it early next week," answered Songbird. "He expects a visit from old Grisley and Belright Fogg."

"My gracious! You didn't tell me anything about Fogg being connected with this," burst out Sam.

"I forgot all about it," answered Songbird. "It seems that as soon as old Grisley heard the money was stolen and that it wasn't likely the mortgage would be paid, he hired Belright Fogg to take the matter up for him. He is an old man and very excitable, and he somehow got the notion that Mr. Sanderson would try to swindle him in some way. So he got Belright Fogg in the case, though as a general thing he has no more use for lawyers than he has for banks."

"Well, he's very foolish to put his case in the hands of such a fellow as Belright Fogg. Tom, I guess you'll remember the trouble we had with that fellow."

"I sure do, Sam!"

"And Sam had more trouble with him," cried Songbird. "Don't forget how you hit him in the head with a snowball."

"That's right. In the excitement of the attack on you, Songbird, I forgot all about that," answered the youngest Rover. "I suppose he is laying back to bring that up against me."

They soon reached the grounds surrounding Brill, and Tom looked at the college buildings with interest.

"Looks almost like home to me," he said somewhat wistfully. "My, but I had some good times here! I wish I had been on deck for that snowballing contest."

"Sam was the hero of that occasion, according to all accounts," answered Songbird. "He captured the banners of the freshies and sophs, you know."

As the automobile rolled into the grounds a number of students recognized Tom and waved friendly greetings to him. Leaping out, he was soon surrounded by a number of his old chums, all of whom wanted to know where he had been keeping himself and how long he was going to stay with them.

"Can't stay longer than to-morrow noon," he announced. "You know I'm a business man now," and he puffed up and grinned in a manner that made all of the others smile.

"You just came in time, Tom," cried Spud. "Your old friend, William Philander Tubbs, who has been away on business to Boston, got back here this morning."

"What! My old friend Tubby here? I'll be glad to shake his flipper," announced Tom, and grinned more than ever as he recalled the practical jokes that had been played at different times on the dudish student who had been mentioned.

Of course the students present wanted to know what had been learned by Sam and Songbird on the trip to Center Haven, and many were the speculations regarding Blackie Crowden.

"The authorities ought to be able to catch that fellow now that you have his photograph and a good description of him," remarked Stanley. "It would be a good idea to send that description and photograph broadcast."

The boys reported to Dr. Wallington, and Tom went with them. The head of Brill was glad to see his former student, and readily consented to allow Tom to remain with the others that night, an extra cot being put into room No. 25 for that purpose.

"Are those the banners you captured, Sam?" questioned Tom, when the boys entered the room, and as he spoke he pointed to two banners which were nailed up on the wall.

"Yes, Tom, those are the ones we captured," was the reply of the youngest Rover, with considerable pride. "The freshies and sophs wanted them back the worst way, but I told them there was nothing doing, that I intended to keep them at least until I graduated. They sent a committee to me to get the banners, and I can tell you that committee was pretty sore when they went away without getting them."

"You watch out that they don't take those banners on the sly, Sam."

"Oh, Songbird and I are looking out for them. Didn't you notice we had the door locked? We always lock up now, and no one has a key but the janitor, and we have cautioned him not to let any one in here without our permission."

"I'll tell you what I'd like to do to-night," said Tom. "I'd like to smuggle something to eat into this room and give some of our crowd a spread, just for the fun of it."

"All right, I'm willing, Tom," answered his brother. "Of course you'll have to keep rather quiet about it, because I don't want to get into the bad graces of any of the monitors or of Dr. Wallington. I want to graduate next June with the highest possible honors."

It was arranged that while Songbird and Sam studied some necessary lessons, Tom was to return to Ashton in the automobile and bring back a number of things which would be needed for the proposed spread. Tom took Spud and Stanley with him. Out on the campus the three came face to face with William Philander Tubbs.

"Hello, Tubblets, old boy!" cried Tom cordially, as he caught William Philander by the hand. "How are you making it these days?"

"I – er – er – How do you do, Rover?" stammered the dudish student. "Why, I am – er – am quite well, thank you. I thought you had left college?"

"Oh, I couldn't leave it for good, you know, Tubby, my dear. They wouldn't be able to get along without me."

"Why – ah – why – ah – somebody told me you were going into business in New York."

"That's right, Tubbette."

"Oh, Rover! please don't call me by those horrid nicknames any longer," pleaded William Philander. "You promised me long ago you wouldn't do it."

"Only a slip of my memory, my dear Philander Williams. I really – "

"No, no! Not Philander Williams. My name is William Philander."

"That's right! so it is. It's always been Philander William – No, I mean Willander Philiams – no, that isn't it either. My gracious, Tubblets, old boy! what have you done with the front handles of your cognomen, anyway? You twist me all sideways trying to remember it."

"Really, how odd! My name is William Philander Tubbs. That's easy enough."

"If I had it engraved in script type on a visiting card and looked at it daily, maybe I would be able to remember it," answered Tom, mournfully. "You know my head was never very good for history or anything like that. However, now that I know that your name is Philander Tubblets Williams, don't you think you'd like to ride down to Ashton with us? We are going to have a little spread to-night, and I want you to help me pick out the spaghetti, sauerkraut, sweet potato pie, Limburger cheese, and other delicacies."

"Oh, by Jove! do you really mean you are going to have those things for a spread?" gasped William Philander.

"That is, if they are just the things you like," returned Tom, innocently. "Of course, Stanley here suggested that we have some fried eel sandwiches and some worm pudding. But I don't know about such rich living as that."

"Eel sandwiches! Worm pudding!" groaned William Philander, aghast. "I never heard of such things! Why don't you get – er – er – some cream puffs and chocolate éclares and er – and – er – and mint kisses and things like that, you know?"

"Not solid enough, my dear Willie boy. The boys love substantials. You know that as well as I do. Of course we might add a few little delicacies like turnips and onions, just for side dishes, you know."

"I – I – really think you had better excuse me, Rover!" exclaimed William Philander, backing away. "I am not feeling extra good, and I don't think I want to go to any spread to-night," and William Philander bowed and backed still farther.

"Oh, all right, Philly Willy," responded Tom, dolefully. "Of course if you don't want to participate you don't have to, but you'll break our hearts if you stay away. Now you just come to room twenty-five to-night and we'll give you the finest red herring and mush ice cream you ever chewed in your life," and then he and his chums hurried away in the automobile, leaving William Philander Tubbs gazing after him in deep perplexity.

CHAPTER X
THE FEAST

When Tom came back accompanied by Stanley and Spud, all had their arms full of the things purchased in Ashton.

"And this is only the half of it," announced the fun-loving Rover to his brother, in answer to a query. "We've got to go back and get the rest out of the automobile."

"We'll bring that stuff up," said Stanley. "You stay here with your brother. Come on, Songbird, I see you are doing nothing, so you might as well give us a lift," and off the three boys trooped to bring up the rest of the things purchased for the feast.

"I'm mighty glad you are going to give this, Tom, on Songbird's account," announced Sam, when he and his brother were left to themselves. "Songbird is about as blue as indigo. You see, it isn't only the money – it's Minnie. Her father won't let him call on her any more."

"Tough luck, sure enough," responded Tom. "Well, let us do all we can to-night to make Songbird forget his troubles." Tom took a walk up and down the room, halting in front of a picture of Grace which was in a silver frame on a chiffonier. "Pretty good picture, Sam," he observed.

"Yes, it is."

"Did you say that you had been out with Grace lately?"

"Oh, yes. We had a fine sleighride only the other day."

"She's made quite a friend of a Miss Ada Waltham at the seminary, a rich girl, hasn't she?"

"She has mentioned Miss Waltham to me. I didn't know that they were particularly friendly," answered Sam. "You know this Miss Waltham is very rich."

"So I heard, Sam. She is worth about a quarter of a million dollars, so somebody said. But she has a brother, Chester, who is worth even more. An uncle died and left nearly his entire estate to the brother."

"Is that so? Lucky young fellow! But I don't see how that interests me, Tom," and Sam looked at his brother inquiringly. "You act as if you had something on your mind."

"So I have, Sam; and that is one of the reasons I came here to-day," announced Tom. "I'll tell you about it in the morning," he added hastily, as a tramping was heard in the hallway; and the next moment the door burst open and in came Stanley, Songbird, Spud and one or two others, all loaded down with bundles and packages.

"Make way for the parcels post and the express company!" proclaimed Spud, as he dropped several packages on one of the cots. "Say, Tom, you must have bought out half of Ashton."

"Only three-eighths, Spud," answered the fun-loving Rover, gaily. "You see I knew what an awful appetite you had, and as I had an extra twenty-five cent piece in my jeans I thought I'd try to satisfy that appetite just once."

"Twenty-five cents! Wow!" commented Stanley. "I'll wager this spread costs you a good many dollars."

Word had been passed around to a number of Tom's old friends, and they were all requested to be on hand by ten o'clock.

"Tubbs says he begs to be excused," announced Paul Orben when he came in. "He says he has got some studying he must do."

"Nonsense! He's afraid we'll treat him to some sauerkraut pie and some pickled pastry," returned Tom. "I don't want him to stay away and miss a good time. What room is he in?"

"Number eighteen."

"Then come along, some of you, and we'll bring him here," announced the fun-loving Rover, and marched off, followed by Spud and Bob. In the meanwhile, Sam, Songbird and Stanley brought the things from the closet and began to prepare for the feast.

Tom and his friends found William Philander busy folding and putting away half a dozen gorgeous neckties. He was rather startled at their sudden entrance, and did his best to hide the articles.

"Hello! I thought you were boning away on trigonometry or mental science," was Tom's comment. "Say, old boy, that's a gorgeous necktie," he added as he picked up a creation in lavender and yellow. "Did you buy this to wear at the horse show, or at a meeting of mothers' helpers?"

"Oh, my dear Rover, please don't muss that up!" pleaded William Philander, snatching the necktie from Tom's hands. "That is one that was – er – made – er – a – a present to me."

"Oh, I see. That's the one that blind young lady gave to you. I admire her taste in picking it out."

"Blind lady? I – er – have no blind lady friend," returned William Philander.

"Oh, yes, I remember now, Tubby, she was deaf – not blind. It's a wonder she didn't pick out something a little louder."

"Oh, Rover, I really believe you are poking fun at that necktie," returned the dudish student.

"We came to get you to come to the feast, Willie," announced Spud. "We don't want you to miss it."

"We wouldn't have you miss it for a peck of shelled popcorn," put in Bob.

"Yes, but really, I've got some studying to do, and – "

"You can study after the feast is over, my dear boy," broke in Tom, as he caught William Philander by the arm. "You'll be surprised how much quicker you can learn on a full stomach than on one that is half vacant. Come on!"

"Yes, but I – "

"We haven't any time to spare, Tubblets. You are going to the feast, so you might as well make the best of it. Come on, fellows, help him along. He's so bashful he can't walk," and thus urged, Spud took William Philander's other arm while Bob caught him by the collar and in the back, and thus the three of them forced the dudish collegian out of his room and along the hallway to Number 25.

By this time something like fifteen students had gathered in the room, and the advent of Tom and his chums with the somewhat frightened William Philander was greeted with a roar of approval. The dudish student was marched in and made to take a seat on a board which had been placed on two chairs. On the board sat several students, and William Philander was placed on one end.

"Now, then, everybody make himself at home," announced Tom, as soon as a look around had convinced him that his brother and the others had everything in readiness for the feast. "I believe you'll find everything here except toothpicks, and for those we'll have to chop up one of Sam's baseball bats later on."

"Not much! You're not going to touch any of my bats," announced the younger brother, firmly.

"Sam wants to keep them to help bat another victory for Brill this spring," put in Spud. "My! but that was one great game we had last season."

"So it was," put in another student. "And don't forget that Tom helped to win that game as well as Sam."

While this chatter was going on various good things in the way of salads and sandwiches had been passed around, and these were followed by cake and glasses of root beer, ginger ale and grape juice.

"Why, this is perfectly lovely," lisped William Philander Tubbs, as he sat on the end of the board-seat, his lap covered with a paper napkin on which rested a large plate of chicken salad and some sandwiches. In one hand he held an extra large glass of grape juice.

"Everybody ready!" announced Stanley, with a wink at several of the boys. "Here is where we drink to the health of Tom Rover!"

"Tom Rover!" was the exclamation, and at a certain sign all the boys seated on the board except William Philander leaped to their feet.

The result was as might have been expected. The dudish pupil had been resting on the end of the board, which overlapped the chair, and with the weight of the others removed, the board suddenly tipped upward and down went William Philander in a heap, the chicken salad jouncing forward over his shirt front and the glass of grape juice in his hand being dashed full into his face.

"Hi! Hi! What – er – did – er – you do that for?" he spluttered, as he sat on the floor, completely dazed. "Say! why didn't you tell me you were going to get up?" and then he started to wipe the grape juice from his eyes and nose.

"Hello! Salad's going down!" cried one student gaily.

"Say, Tubbs, there is no use of throwing such nice food as that away even if you don't want it," chimed in another.

"Don't you know enough to stand up when a toast is to be drunk?" queried a third.

"I – I – didn't quite understand," stammered William Philander, and then with an effort he extracted himself from the mess on his lap and slowly arose to his feet. "My gracious! I believe I have utterly ruined this vest and trousers!" he added mournfully, as he gazed down at the light gray suit he wore.

"Oh, a little gasoline will fix that up all right," said Spud. "Don't let a little thing like that interfere with your pleasure, Tubbs. Come on – here's another glass of grape juice. No use of crying over spilt milk – I mean juice," corrected the youth.

"Tom Rover! Everybody up!" came the call, and then amid a subdued murmuring of good luck the boys stood around Tom and drank his health.

"Thank you, fellows, very much," answered Tom, and there was just a suspicion of huskiness in his voice.

"Speech! Speech! Give us a speech!" came from several.

"Speech? Great guns! I never made a speech in my life," announced Tom, and now for the first time he looked a bit confused.

"Oh, you've got to say something, Tom," cried Stanley.

"What shall I talk about – earthquakes in India, or the spots on Tubbs' pants?" queried Tom, with a grin.

"Never mind what you talk about so long as you say something," came from Bob.

"All right then – here goes!" announced Tom after a little pause. "Catch this before it's too late. I'm glad to be here, otherwise I wouldn't be here. I'm glad you are here, otherwise you wouldn't be here. I think Brill College is the best college any fellow could ever go to, if that hadn't been so I'd never have gone to Brill. I'm sorry I couldn't stay here to graduate, but I've left the honor to Sam here, and I trust he'll get through and make a record for the whole family. Boys, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And here's wishing you all success at graduation and success through life," and thus concluding his little speech, Tom took a generous drink of ginger ale, while the others applauded vigorously.

"Very good!" cried Sam, but then added quickly: "For gracious sake! don't make too much noise or you'll have one of the monitors here and we'll get some black marks."

"That's right, fellows," announced Stanley. "After this we'll have to be as noisy as a mouse in a cheese factory."

"Now that I have been called on to make a speech," announced Tom, after quietness had been restored, "I am going to call on Songbird for one of his choice bits of poetry."

"Oh, now, Tom! please don't do that," pleaded the would-be poet of Brill. "You know I'm in no humor for writing poetry now."

"All the more reason why you should write some," announced Sam. "Come on now. You must have something tucked away in your system – I mean something brand new."

"Well – er – I've got something new, but I hardly think it is appropriate for this occasion," answered Songbird slowly.

"Never mind; give it to us no matter what it is," cried one of the students.

"Let her flutter!"

"Poetry for mine!"

"Let her flow, Songbird!"

"That's right. Turn on the poetry spigot, Songbird;" and thus urged the would-be poet of Brill began:

 
"The world is black and I feel blue,
I do not know what I'm to do,
That fellow hit me in the head
And left me in the road for dead.
I go around from hour to hour
And I am feeling mighty sour.
I am consumed with helpless woe – "
 
 
"Because I lost that heard-earned dough,"
 

completed Tom, rather suddenly, and this abrupt ending caused a general laugh.