Part 1 (1/2)

The Rover Boys in New York.

by Arthur M. Winfield.

INTRODUCTION

My Dear Boys: This volume is a complete story in itself, but forms the seventeenth in a line issued under the general t.i.tle of ”The Rover Boys Series for Young Americans.”

As I have mentioned several times, in other volumes, this line was started with the publication of ”The Rover Boys at School,” ”On the Ocean” and ”In the Jungle.” The cordial reception afforded the stories called for the publication of the next volume, ”The Rover Boys Out West,” and then, year after year, by the issuing of ”On the Great Lakes,” ”In Camp,” ”On Land and Sea,” ”On the River,” ”On the Plains,”

”In Southern Waters,” ”On the Farm,” ”On Treasure Isle,” ”At College,”

”Down East,” and then by ”In the Air,” where we last met them.

The boys are not as young as they once were--indeed, in this book, d.i.c.k, the oldest, gets married and settles down to business. But all are as bright and lively as ever, and Tom is just as full of fun. When they go to New York City they have some strenuous times, and all prove their worth in more ways than one. Their father is in deep trouble and they aid him, and clear up quite a mystery.

Up to this writing, the sale on this line of books is but a trifle short of one million and a quarter copies! This is to me, of course, tremendously gratifying. Again, as in the past, I thank my many readers for their interest in what I have written for them; and I trust the perusal of my works will do them good.

Affectionately and sincerely yours,

Arthur M. Winfield.

CHAPTER I

THE BOYS AT BRILL

”Boys, what do you say to a trip in the Dartaway this afternoon?”

”Suits me, Sam,” replied Tom Rover.

”Providing the breeze doesn't get too strong,” returned d.i.c.k Rover, as he put up his hand to feel the air.

”Oh, I don't think it will blow too much,” went on Sam Rover. ”I don't mind some air.”

”But no more storms for me!” cried his brother Tom, with a shake of his head. ”That last old corker was enough for me.”

”Where shall we go?” questioned d.i.c.k, with a queer little smile creeping around the corners of his mouth.

”Oh, my, just to hear d.i.c.k!” cried Tom, with a grin. ”As if he would go anywhere but to Hope Seminary, to call on Dora!”

”And as if you would go anywhere but to call on Nellie, at the same place!” retorted the oldest Rover boy.

”Now, children, children'” came sweetly from Sam. ”You mustn't quarrel about the dear girls. I know both of you are as much gone as can be.

But----”

”And how about Grace, Sam?” said Tom. ”Didn't I hear you making up some poetry about her yesterday, 'Those limpid eyes and pearly ears, and'----”

”Rats, Tom! I don't make up poetry--I leave that to Songbird,”

interrupted the youngest Rover boy. ”Just the same, it will be nice to call on the girls. They'll be looking for us some day this week.”