won't know we're there, so perhaps they won't try it on too hard," said Sam, and there the students' slang came to an end for the time being.
The concert was quite to their taste, and they were surprised, when it was over, to learn that it was after eleven o'clock.
"I hadn't any idea it was so late," exclaimed Dick. "We'd better be getting back to the hotel, or we won't get our money's worth out of that room."
"That's right," laughed Tom. "Although, to tell the truth, I'm not very sleepy."
Several blocks were covered when Sam, who was looking across the street, uttered a cry of astonishment.
"Look!" he exclaimed.
"At what?" asked both Tom and Dick.
"Over in front of that clothing store. There is Dan Baxter, and Jasper Grinder is with him!"
"Sam is right," came from Dick. "They must have struck up some sort of a friendship, or they wouldn't be here together."
"Let's go over and see what Baxter has to say for himself," said Tom boldly.
"All right," returned Dick. "But we want to keep out of a row; remember that."
They crossed the street and walked straight up to Baxter and Jasper Grinder, who were holding an animated conversation in the doorway of a clothing establishment which was closed for the night.
As they came up, Sam caught the words, "There is money there, sure," coming from Baxter. He paid no attention to the words at the time, but remembered them long afterward, and with good reason.
"Hullo, Baxter!" said Dick, halting in front of the bully.
Dan Baxter gave a start, as if detected in some wrong act. Then, as the light from an electric lamp shone upon Dick's face, he glared sourly at the oldest Rover.
"Where did you come from?" he asked, and then, seeing the other Rovers, added: "Been following me, I suppose?"
"No, we haven't been following you," said Dick. "We just came from the college boys' concert in the hall down the street."
Jasper Grinder looked as sour as did Dan Baxter. Then he shook his finger in Dick's face,
"I haven't forgotten you, Richard Rover," he said bitterly. "And I am not likely to forget you."
"As you please, Mr. Grinder," was the cool rejoinder.
"And I shan't forget you, Jasper Grinder," put in Sam. "You were the means of my going to bed with a heavy cold."
"Bah! it was all put on," exclaimed Jasper Grinder. "Had I had my way, I would have kept you in the storeroom all night, and flogged you beside."
"Captain Putnam did a good thing when he dismissed you," put in Tom. "It's a pity he ever took on such a cold-hearted and miserly fellow."
"You Rovers think you are on top," said Dan Baxter savagely. "But you won't stay on top long, I'll give you my word on that."
"What are you going to do about it?" asked Dick, not without considerable curiosity.
"Never mind; you'll learn when the proper time comes."
"Is your dad going to try to break jail again?" asked Sam.
"It's none of your business what he does — or what I do, either."
"We'll make it our business if you try any of your games on us again," said Dick. "We've stood enough from you and your kind, and we don't intend to stand any more."
"Are you going back to school after the holidays?" asked Dan Baxter, after a pause.
"That's our business," answered Tom.
"All right; you needn't answer the question if you don't want to."
"What do you want to know for?" asked Sam.
"Oh! nothing in particular. I suppose it's a good place for you to go to. You are all Captain Putnam's pets, and he won't make you do a thing you don't like, or make you study either, if your father shells out to him."
"We study a great deal more than you ever studied, Baxter," said Dick.
"Let them go," cried Jasper Grinder, in deep irritation. "I want nothing to do with them," and he turned his back on the Rovers.
"We're willing to go," said Dick. "But, Baxter, I warn you against doing anything in the future. You'll only put your foot into it."
So speaking, Dick walked away, and Tom and Sam followed him. Baxter shook his fist at them, and Jasper Grinder did the same.
"They're a bad team," said Tom, as they walked to the hotel. "If they try, perhaps they can give us lots of trouble."
CHAPTER XI
HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS
"Hurrah! Here we are again! How natural Oak Run looks!" exclaimed Tom on the following day, as the long train came to a halt at their station and they piled out on to the narrow platform.
"There is old Nat Ricks, the station master," said Sam. "Remember how you nearly scared him to death once by putting a big fire-cracker in the waste paper he was burning and then telling him a yarn about dynamite being around?"
"Well, I just guess I do," answered Tom, with a grin. "Hullo, Mr. Ricks!" he called out. "How are you this fine and frosty morning?"
"Putty well, Tom," grumbled the old station master. "Been troubled a lot lately with rheumatism."
"That's too bad, Mr. Ricks. Caught it hoisting trunks into the cars, I suppose."
"Don't know how I caught it."
"Or maybe lifting milk cans."
"I don't lift no milk cans no more. Job Todder has that work around here."
"I see. Well, you must have caught it some how, or else it caught you. Ever tried the old Indian remedy for it?"
"Indian remedy, what's that?"
"Gracious, Mr. Ricks! never heard of the old reliable Indian remedy? I'm astonished at you," went on Tom, in mock candor.
"I've heard tell of Indian vegetable pills — but they aint no good for rheumatism," was the slow answer.
"Where is the pain mostly?"
"Down this left leg."
"Then the Indian remedy will just cure you, sure pop, Mr. Ricks."
"Well, what might it be?"
"It might be cover-liver oil, but it isn't. You get a quart bottle, — a red quart bottle, for a white one won't do, — and fill it with cold
