Part 45 (1/2)
They had left some things at Dawson, and these they turned over, on a written order, to the old miner, telling him to do as he pleased with them.
”Good-bye to ye!” cried Wumble, on parting. ”An' good luck,” he added, and shook hands all around.
After the rough experiences in the wilds of Alaska, the boys felt quite at home on the big steamer. The purser managed to find a large stateroom for them, containing three berths. And, what was even better, he introduced d.i.c.k and Sam to a doctor who chanced to be on board. The physician was a man of experience, who lived in San Francisco, and he readily agreed to take Tom under his care and do all he could for the sufferer.
”I think all he needs is rest--absolute rest,” said the doctor, after an examination. ”He ought not to go to college again--at least, not for a year or two.”
”It's hard to keep him quiet, Doctor--he has always been such a lively fellow--the liveliest boy in our family,” said d.i.c.k.
”Well, then, let him travel. Anything to keep his mind from his books and from himself.”
The voyage down the mighty Yukon to Bering Sea and the Pacific Ocean was a long and tedious one to d.i.c.k and Sam. For several days the steamer had a hard time of it, crus.h.i.+ng her way through the ice, which was rapidly forming. In a few days more navigation would be completely closed, so far as that portion of our globe was concerned.
”We got out just in time,” said d.i.c.k to Sam, when the Yukon was at last left behind and they saw ahead of them the blue waters of Bering Sea.
The trip on the ocean seemed to do Tom a world of good. Daily he grew stronger, until he could walk on deck. The doctor attended him from time to time, but gave the sufferer little medicine.
As soon as it was possible to do so, d.i.c.k sent a wireless message ash.o.r.e, to be relayed to the farm, telling the folks that Tom was safe and that all hands would soon be back at Valley Brook. This message was also sent, by way of the farm, to Mrs. Stanhope and Dora, and to the girls at Hope.
”My gracious, what adventures we have had on this trip!” remarked Sam to d.i.c.k, as the steamer was headed for the Golden Gate, the entrance to San Francisco harbor.
”Right you are, Sam,” was the reply. ”I don't think we'll have any more so strenuous.” But d.i.c.k was mistaken. More adventures were still in store for the Rovers, and what some of them were will be related in the next volume of this series, to be ent.i.tled ”The Rover Boys in Business; Or, The Search for the Missing Bonds.”
On the arrival at San Francisco it was deemed advisable by the doctor that Tom rest for a few days at a hotel before starting on the trip for home. Tom's mind now seemed to be as clear as ever and all his weakness was physical.
One day, when d.i.c.k was reading a local newspaper, he chanced on a paragraph that instantly arrested his attention. He read it carefully and then sought out Sam.
”Look here,” he cried. ”Here is news about that lady on the train who lost her handbag with jewelry in it worth ten thousand dollars.”
”What about it?” asked Sam, with interest.
”She didn't lose it at all, it seems. Her mother, who was with her, took it and absent-mindedly hid it in their berth. There a porter found it and turned it over to the railroad company.”
”Well, that clears Tom of that,” said Sam, with a sigh of relief. ”But what of Hiram Duff's money and jewelry?”
”That still remains to be found out, Sam. I guess Tom took it--but of course he didn't know what he was doing. You can't count such a thing a crime when a fellow is out of his mind.” In the end, it may be as well to state here, this mystery was never fully explained. But the Rover family paid the old miser for his loss, and for what he had suffered in being locked down in his cellar; and there the matter was dropped.
Tom stood the journey to Valley Brook better than expected. At the Oak Run railroad station the family touring car was drawn up, with Jack Ness, the hired man, in charge. The boys' father was there to greet them.
”My boys! My boys!” he said, and the tears stood in his eyes. Then he folded poor Tom in his arms and led him to the touring car. And there a surprise awaited the sufferer. Nellie was there, having arrived the day before from Hope.
”I just had to come,” she said, and then she caught Tom and held him tightly. The tears were streaming down her cheeks, and the others had to turn away. ”Oh, Tom! Tom!” she murmured, over and over again.
”Oh, Nellie, don't make such a fuss! I'm not worth it!” murmured Tom, but, nevertheless, he looked greatly pleased. ”I've had a--an awful--dream,” he went on, slowly. ”But I'm--well, I'm not going to dream that way again--not if I can help it!” And he gave her a look that thrilled her through and through.
There was another warm welcome when the touring car reached the farm.
Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha were on the piazza to meet the boys.