CHAPTER I. RODNEY UNHAPPY IN A GOOD HOME.   T was a lovely Sabbath morning in May, 1828, when two lads, the elder of whom was about sixteen years old, and the younger about fourteen, were wandering along the banks of a beautiful brook, called the Buttermilk Creek, in the immediate vicinity of the city of Albany, N. Y. Though there is no poetry in the name of this little stream, there is sweet music made by its rippling waters, as they... more...

CHAPTER I PLANS FOR AN OUTING "Whoop! hurrah! Zip, boom, ah! Rockets!" "For gracious' sake, Tom, what's all the racket about? I thought we had all the noise we wanted last night, when we broke up camp." "It's news, Dick, glorious news," returned Tom Rover, and he began to dance a jig on the tent flooring. "It's the best ever." "It won't be glorious news if you bring this tent down on our heads," answered Dick Rover. "Have you discovered a... more...

CHAPTER I ON THE HOUSEBOAT "Say, Tom, what's that big thing coming down the river?" "I'm sure I don't know, Sam. It's big enough to be a house." repliedTom Rover. "Maybe it is a house," came from Dick Rover, who was standing beside his brothers on the rear deck of the houseboat which was taking them down the Mississippi River. "A house?" broke in a distinctly German voice. "Did you mean to said dere vos a house floating der rifer town, Dick... more...

INTRODUCTION. My dear boys: "The Rover Boys in the Mountains" is a complete story in itself, but forms the sixth volume of the "Rover Boys Series for Young Americans." This series of books for wide-awake American lads was begun several years ago with the publication of "The Rover Boys at School." At that time the author had in mind to write not more than three volumes, relating the adventures of Dick, Tom, and Sam Rover at Putnam Hall, "On... more...

PREFACE. The advertisement to a work of similar character to the present expresses the author’s principle and wishes as to this little volume.  It is constructed on the same plan, and, like the former, has had the test of the observations of his own children before it was given to the public.  The reception of “Agathos” has shewn that many parents have felt the want which these little volumes are intended to supply,... more...

CHAPTER I THE WICKED GIANT HE was ten. But his clothes were forty. And it was this difference in the matter of age, and, consequently, in the matter of size, that explained why, at first sight, he did not show how thin-bodied he was, but seemed, instead, to be rather a stout little boy. For his faded, old shirt, with its wide sleeves lopped off just above his elbows, and his patched trousers, shortened by the scissors to knee length, were both... more...

CHAPTER I A Peasant’s Hut in Russia IN the last volume of the Red Cross series the four American girls spent six months in tragic little Belgium. There, in an American hospital in Brussels, devoted to the care, not of wounded soldiers, but of ill Belgians, three of the girls lived and worked. But Eugenia went alone to dwell in a house in the woods because the cry of the children in Belgium made the strongest appeal to her. The house was... more...

CHAPTER I THE PARLOUR BEHIND THE SHOP 'I was very solitary indeed.' (Visit to the Cousins).—Mary Lamb. The blinds had been drawn down for some time in the back parlour behind Mr. Fairchild's shop in Pier Street, the principal street in the little town of Seacove. And the gas was lighted, though it was not turned up very high. It was a great thing to have gas; it had not been known at Seacove till recently. For the time of... more...

OFF FOR NEW FIELDS. "Now I believe you boys understand just what is wanted of you, as I explained it yesterday afternoon, but just to make sure, I'll go over it briefly again while you are waiting for your train," said the Customs Chief to the three Ranger Boys. Our three friends were sitting in the office of the chief at the capitol in Maine, preparatory to bidding him goodbye before starting out for the Canadian border to try and run down a... more...

CHAPTER I TWO MYSTERIES “Not much like last summer, is it, Jack?” “Not much, Frank.” “No Mexican bandits. No Chinese bad men. No dens in Chinatown. Say, Jack, remember how you felt when we were licked in our attempt to escape from that dive out in San Francisco? Boy, that was the time when things looked mighty blue. Jack?” No answer. “Jack?” In a louder tone. Still no answer. Frank turned... more...