"Sam and Dick, wake up, we've struck a bonanza!" he cried, and hauled both from under the covers. All laughed heartily, and marched down into the dining room with the stockings over their shoulders.
"A merry Christmas to Uncle Randolph from all of us," said Tom, handing over a much-coveted volume on agriculture. "And a merry Christmas to Aunt Martha from three bad boys," added Sam, and turned over a fancy work-basket, both presents having been purchased at Ithaca on the journey home.
"Ha! just what I desired!" said Randolph Rover, adjusting his spectacles. "I am very much obliged, boys — I am, indeed!"
"Such a pretty basket!" murmured Mrs. Rover. "It was very good of you!" and she hugged each lad in his turn. Then came more presents — neckties, collars, and gloves for the boys, besides a book for each written by a favorite juvenile writer.
"The snow is two feet deep!" said Dick, after an inspection, when breakfast had come to an end. "We're booked for the house to-day!"
"We'll wait until afternoon," said Mr. Rover.
It was a happy time, even if they were snowed in. Soon the warm sun came out and brought the snow down a little. "Best kind of sleighing now!" said the hired man, and drove around the biggest sleigh on the place. All tumbled in, and the party did not return until after midnight.
CHAPTER XXI
SOMETHING ABOUT THE PAST
During holiday week the boys took occasion to tell their uncle all of the particulars concerning the tramp called Buddy, Arnold Baxter, and his son the bully. It is needless to state that Randolph Rover listened to their story with interest.
"I would like to meet this man with a scar on his chin," he said. "Speaking of him reminds me of something that happened years ago."
"What was it, Uncle Randolph?" questioned Tom.
"Your father had an enemy who had a scar on his chin."
"What!" cried Sam. "Could it have been this Arnold Baxter?"
"Hardly, although such a thing is possible. This man was a Westerner, and laid claim to some property owned by your father. They had a quarrel, and the fellow shot your father in the arm and then ran away. I never learned all of the particulars."
"Arnold Baxter and this Buddy spoke about a mining claim, and about some papers," burst out Tom. "I'd like to wager he is the same chap!"
"If he is, you want to beware of him," responded Randolph Rover gravely. "He is your father's deadliest enemy."
"I'll remember that," said Dick, and his brothers nodded. The matter was talked over for several hours, but brought little satisfaction.
On New Year's Day came another fall of snow, and the lads spent the afternoon in a regular snowballing match among themselves and with the hired man. Poor Jack caught it on all sides, and after quarter of an hour's bombardment was glad enough to run to the barn for shelter. "But it's great sport," he grinned, as he almost stood on his head trying to get from the back of his neck a soft snowball which Tom had planted there.
The following day they started back for Putnam Hall, and on the way met Larry, Frank, Fred, and a number of others. When Ithaca was reached a surprise awaited the crowd. The weather was so cold that the ice impeded transportation, and the Golden Star was not making her usual trips to Cedarville and other points.
"Here's a state of things!" cried Tom. "What's to do — walk to Putnam Hall?"
"Well, hardly, seeing that it is a good number of miles and the weather is bitterly cold."
"Well, if we can't walk and can't ride, how are we to get there?" came from Sam.
"That's the conundrum, Brudder Bones," laughed Larry, imitating a negro minstrel. "I'se gib it up, sah!"
"It's no laughing matter," said Dick. "We might stay in Ithaca over night, but traveling may be no better in the morning."
"Let us send a telegram to Captain Putnam for instructions," suggested Fred, and soon the following message was prepared and sent to the Hall by way of Cedarville:
"Six of us are held up at Ithaca by the cold. How shall we come on?"
This message was forwarded without delay, and while awaiting an answer Dick and his brothers took a walk through the town.
They were passing down the main street when Sam uttered a short cry.
"Hullo, there is Josiah Crabtree!"
"Where?" questioned Dick with deep interest.
"Across the way. He has just entered the jewelry store on the corner."
"Say, perhaps he's buying a wedding ring," blurted out Tom before he stopped to think twice.
"Tom, that matter is no joke," came from Dick, as his face grew red. "I sincerely hope, for Dora Stanhope's sake, that he never marries Dora's mother."
"Oh, so do I," answered Tom readily. "Why, he isn't fit to be stepfather to a dog!"
"Let us look into the window and see what he is doing," suggested Dick uneasily, for he could not get it out of his head but that his brother's guess might be correct.
The window was broad and clear, and they looked through it into the shop with ease. Josiah Crabtree stood at the counter, talking to a clerk, who presently brought forth a tray of plain rings.
"It is a wedding ring, as sure as you are born!" cried Tom.
"I'm going in," said Dick in a low tone. "Wait for me here," and he entered the establishment. There were counters on both sides, and he walked to a position directly opposite to that occupied by the ex-schoolmaster.
"I wish to see some cheap scarfpins," he said to the clerk who came to wait on him, and the man hurried off to bring on the articles mentioned.
"And is this the latest style of wedding ring?" Dick heard Josiah Crabtree say in a low voice.
"Yes, sir, the very latest — and very tasty," answered the clerk who was waiting on him.
"I wish two, one for the lady and one for — ahem! — myself."
"Yes, sir — quite the style now for a gentleman to have a ring. Want them engraved, of course."
"Yes. Here is a paper with the sizes and what is to be engraved upon each. How much will they be with the engraving?"
"Six dollars each, sir."
"Six dollars! Don't you make a reduction on taking two?" asked Crabtree, who was a good deal of a miser.
"We can throw off a dollar on the pair," answered the clerk, after consulting the proprietor of the shop.
"I didn't expect to pay over ten dollars."
"We can give you this style for ten dollars."
"No, I want the latest — to please the lady."
"Humph!" muttered Dick. "You'll never please Mrs. Stanhope with any ring."
"Eleven dollars is the lowest we can take."
"And when will the rings be ready for me?"
"Day after to-morrow. We might do them quicker, but we have a great deal of engraving ahead."
"Day after to-morrow will do, for I do not wish them until next week," answered Josiah Crabtree. "Here is my card. I am stopping at the American House in this city."
"Yes, sir. Do you want the rings sent?"
"No, I will call for them," concluded the ex-teacher, and hurried from the place. Sam and Tom saw him coming, and dodged out of sight around the corner.
Dick had taken in all