"Wait till I see what is in it," answered his big brother. "It won't take but a minute or two."

"Beware of holes!" cautioned Tom.

Feeling his way through the brushwood, d.i.c.k approached the dangling tin box. It was a small affair and now hung open. He felt certain in his mind that when he had seen it before it had been closed.

The box proved to be empty and d.i.c.k was, somehow, disappointed. He glanced on the ground and saw a number of bits of paper, some old looking and some new. He picked up some of the bits and saw they had been written on in pencil, but the words or parts of words were undecipherable.

"Well, what do you make of it?" questioned Sam, as he and Tom came up.

"I think I know what this is," answered d.i.c.k.

"What?"

"A sort of a private post-office. Somebody was in the habit of leaving messages here, and Dangler or somebody else got the messages from time to time."

CHAPTER VIII

LAST DAYS ON THE FARM

"I believe you are right," said Tom, after he, too, had looked over some of the bits of paper strewn around. "Here is the word 'box' and here is the word 'Sat.u.r.day.'"

"Yes, and here are the words, 'fast freight,'" added Sam. "This was nothing more than a letter box for the freight thieves."

"But why was it placed here?" questioned d.i.c.k. "It's a very out-of-the-way place and hard to get to."

"Maybe somebody had to come this way," answered Tom. "See, here is something of a trail."

"Yes, and here are those same big footprints!" exclaimed Sam. "For all we know they may lead to some house or hut on the mountainside."

Having picked up the majority of the bits of paper and put them in their pockets for future examination, the three Rover boys followed the path or trail they had discovered. It led along the mountainside to where there was a small clearing, backed up by a series of rocks from which a spring gushed forth, sparkling brightly in the sunshine.

"I'd like to get another drink," said Sam; "I am terribly thirsty to-day."

"Wait!" warned d.i.c.k, and caught his youngest brother by the arm.

"What's up, d.i.c.k?"

"I see a log cabin--over yonder, among the trees."

"Yes, and I see Dangler!" yelled Tom, suddenly. "There he goes, with a big bundle over his shoulder!" And he pointed to the rear of the log cabin. A man was just disappearing behind a fringe of brushwood. The bundle he carried appeared to be tied up in a horse blanket. He was running as hard as he could.

For a moment the boys did not know what to do. Then they ran to the cabin and entered. It contained but one room, and this they soon discovered was deserted. In the chimney a fire was smouldering, and the remains of a meal lay scattered over a box that did duty as a table.

"This must have been Dangler's hangout," was d.i.c.k's comment. "He must have come back for his things."

"Yes, and this explains why the queer letter box was stationed back there," said Tom.

"Aren't you going to try to catch him?" asked Sam, impatiently.

"To be sure," answered d.i.c.k, and rushed out, and the others after him.

"Keep back there!" they heard Dangler cry, as they appeared on the trail back of the log cabin. "Keep back, or it will be the worse for you!"

"Stop!" called d.i.c.k. "You might as well give up Dangler; you are bound to be caught some time."

"Not much! I am armed and I warn you to keep back," answered the freight thief, and then a bend of the trail hid him from view.

"Do you think he'd dare to shoot?" asked Tom.

"There is no telling what a desperate man will do," replied d.i.c.k. "We had better be cautious."

After that they advanced with care. Presently the trail came out on a mountain road and this pa.s.sed over some rocks and crossed two other roads. They saw no more of Dangler, and the footprints had disappeared.

"He has slipped us," said Tom, coming to a halt and resting on a fallen tree. "Hang the luck anyway!"

"He came back to the cabin for his things," mused Sam. "I guess he is going to leave the neighborhood, and maybe for good."

Chagrined over their failure to catch the freight thief, the boys looked around that neighborhood for awhile and then retraced their steps to the log cabin. Here they found several old articles of wearing apparel and a few newspapers.

"Here is an envelope," said Sam, fishing the object out from behind the box that had done duty as a table. "It is addressed to William Dangler.

Must have been some letter he got."

"Anything in it?"

"No."

"What is the postmark?"

"It is almost blurred out," said Sam. He took the envelope to the light.

"Well, I declare! Ithaca!"

"Ithaca!" cried Tom.

"Why, that's the city we stop at to take the boat for Putnam Hall,"

exclaimed d.i.c.k.

"I know it."

"This is interesting, to say the least," was the comment of the oldest Rover boy. "Wonder if Dangler has friends or confederates in Ithaca?"

"We must notify the police of this," said Tom. "And the sooner the better."

Satisfied that they could learn nothing more by remaining around the log cabin, the boys departed, and inside of an hour were on their buckboard and bound for the farm. From that place they called up the authorities and informed them of what they had learned. Another search was at once inst.i.tuted for Bill Dangler, but the rascal was not captured.