A MAN WAS OUTSIDE PEERING IN AT THE PARTY.
It was Merrick!
"Well, I never!" burst out the eldest Rover boy, and his sudden exclamation caused Dora to look at him curiously and stop playing.
"What is the matter, Dick?"
"Did you see that man at the window? He is gone now."
"I didn't see anybody."
"Who was it?" asked Tom, quickly.
"It was that rascal Merrick!"
"Merrick!" ejaculated Sam. "The fellow who took Uncle Randolph's bonds?"
"The same."
"Oh, Dick, you must be mistaken."
"I was not mistaken—I saw him as plain as day. I am going to look for him," added the eldest Rover, for the man had now disappeared.
He ran for the hall door, and the other boys followed. The girls remained in the parlor, much frightened, for it was after midnight.
As Dick reached the piazza he saw a dark form stealing along a row of bushes near the garden fence.
"There he is!" he exclaimed. "Stop!" he called out, loudly. "Stop, I tell you!"
"Who did you say it was?" asked John Laning, as he came from the kitchen with a stout cane in his hand.
"That rascal Merrick, one of the two men who stole my uncle's traction company bonds," explained Dick.
"What can he be doing here?"
"I don't know. There he goes, over the fence!"
"He is running towards the side road!" exclaimed Sam. "Come on after him!"
"Wait till we get our hats and coats," said Tom, and ran back to pick up the articles mentioned. This took a couple of minutes, and by the time he came back Merrick was out of sight.
The three Rovers ran to the side road, Fred Garrison and Mr. Laning with them.
"I wish I had a pistol," remarked John Laning. "No telling how desperate a character that villain may be."
"I'd like to know if he came on foot or with a horse," said Dick.
"Do you think he followed us to this place?" asked Sam.
"I am sure I don't know. The whole thing looks mighty queer to me."
There was no moon, but the stars were shining brightly, so they could see fairly well on the road. As they reached a bend Tom pointed forward.
"There he is, just going into the bushes!"
"He had better not go that way," was Mr. Laning's remark, "unless he knows the ground well."
"Why not?" asked Sam.
"Just beyond that patch of timber is Nixon's Swamp, as it is called—as boggy and treacherous a spot as can be found for miles around. If he don't look out he'll get stuck there and never get out."
"Do you know the swamp?" asked Dick. "I mean the good spots?"
"Fairly well—I used to come over here when I was a boy—to pick huckleberries. They are plentiful on the other side of the swamp."
"Then supposing you lead the way and we'll follow."
They were soon in the woods and saw a well-defined path running to the eastward. Beyond was Nixon's Swamp, and still further on another woods.
They were afraid they had lost track of the man they were after when they heard a crack ahead of them, followed by a short yell of alarm. Merrick had stumbled over a fallen log and pitched headlong into some thorny bushes. It took him some time to extricate himself, and meanwhile the pursuers drew closer.
"I see him!" cried Tom. "He is turning to the right!"
"He is headed for the worst part of the swamp," was Mr. Laning's comment. "If he doesn't look out——"
A minute later a wild cry rang out from ahead. The cry was repeated twice, and then all became as silent as the grave.
"He must have gone down into the swamp," exclaimed Dick.
"Yes, and more than likely he is drowning to death," added John Laning.