"I move we go on," said Tom, at last. "The wind isn't quite as strong as it was."

Although doubtful of the wisdom of the proceedings, the others voted to proceed and they poled their way out of the cove. Only the jib of the _Polly_ was hoisted and this sent them bowling along at a fair rate of speed.

d.i.c.k stood in the bow and at last called upon Larry to turn the sloop toward sh.o.r.e.

"I think we must be in the neighborhood of that house now," he said.

"And just ahead is a fine cove where the sloop will be as well sheltered as it was at the other cove."

Accordingly Larry turned the _Polly_ in, and the other lads lowered the sail. They came to anchor between a number of tall trees, where the sloop was almost screened from sight.

Having made certain the boat could not drift away, the six boys, led by d.i.c.k, made their way along the sh.o.r.e until they struck something of a path. Coming to a slight rise, d.i.c.k pointed with his hand.

"Isn't that a house, on the other side of the hill?" he asked.

"Yes!" cried Tom. "And by the appearance of it I should say it's the place we are looking for!"

CHAPTER XXVIII

AT THE OLD HOUSE

The Rover boys and their chums approached the old house with a good deal of interest. d.i.c.k led the way, setting a pace that made it hard for the others to keep up.

"Don't hurry so, d.i.c.k," remonstrated Fred. "The house isn't going to run away."

"d.i.c.k wants to make sure if that Merrick is around," responded Songbird.

"And I can't blame him."

The old Sobber homestead was surrounded by a grove of trees equally aged. One of the trees had blown down, taking a corner of the roof with it. Through this opening the birds flitted.

"I don't believe a soul is around," observed Tom, as they halted in front of the building.

"Nothing like ringing the bell!" cried Sam, and mounting the dilapidated piazza he raised the ancient knocker of the door and used it vigorously.

Then came a crash and the youngest Rover felt the piazza bottom give way.

"Look out, a post is coming down!" cried d.i.c.k, warningly, and Sam had just time enough to leap away when the corner post of the piazza fell, allowing the roof above to sag several inches.

"Looks to me as if the whole building was on the verge of collapse," was Songbird's comment.

"Yes, and I don't know whether I want to go in or not," added Larry.

"It certainly does look shaky," admitted d.i.c.k. "I don't think anybody would risk staying in it long."

Leaving the front, they walked around the old house and gazed through several of the broken-out windows. Inside all was dirt and cobwebs, with a few pieces of broken-down furniture scattered about. As he looked in one window Tom saw a big rat scurry across the floor.

"I guess rats are the only tenants," he said dryly. "And they don't pay rent."

"With a few birds on the top floor, front," added Sam. "Well, do we go in or not?"

"I am going in," declared d.i.c.k, and pushed open the old kitchen door. It was damp and mouldy in the apartment, for the rain had soaked loose much of the plaster and caused it to fall.

The big open fireplace looked grimy and forbidding with its iron bars and chains. An iron kettle stood on the chimney-piece, a crack across the bottom.

"Somebody has had a fire here not so very long ago!" said d.i.c.k, and picked up a bit of half-burnt newspaper. He turned it over. "Here is a date. This newspaper is only four days old!"

"Then whoever made a fire here visited this house within the past four days," said Larry in a tragic whisper.

"Whoop! just listen to what a detective Larry is becoming!" cried Tom.

"Regular Bowery Bob, the Newsboy Sleuth!"

"Perhaps it was only some curiosity seeker who came here," suggested Fred.

With caution, for the floors were very rotten, the cadets moved from one room of the old house to another.

"Anything in there?" asked Tom of Sam, as the latter peered into a room that was extra dark.

"I can't make out," was the answer, and Sam took a step forward. Then of a sudden there was a strange whirring, and something hit the youngest Rover boy on the ear, causing him to fall back in fright.

"Stop that!" he cried.

"What was it?" queried Tom, while the others came running to the spot.

"Something hit me on the ear!"

"Anybody in there?"

"There must be."

"Come out of that, whoever you are!" yelled Fred, while d.i.c.k pointed his shotgun at the door.

There was no answer, but a second later came the whirring again, and then a big bat flew into the light, just grazing Tom's face.

"A bat!"

"Let it go!" said Songbird, and then the bat flew out of a window and disappeared.

"Oh!" murmured Sam, and breathed a sigh of relief. "I--I thought somebody struck at me!"

"I've got one of those electric pocket lights along," said Tom. "Let me use that."

He turned on the little electric lamp, and by its rays they inspected the apartment. It was a bedroom, and in one corner was an old bedstead and on it a musty straw mattress. In another corner was a closet containing several shelves.

"Here is an old inkwell," said d.i.c.k, and brought it forth. "And here are the remains of a box of writing paper and envelopes."

"Any letters?" asked Fred.