"Hello!" cried Tom, suddenly; and caught each of his brothers by the arm.
"What now, Tom?" asked Dick, quickly.
"See that fellow over there, leaning against the fence, reading a newspaper?"
"Why, I declare! It is Barton Pelter!" ejaculated Sam.
"You mean Jesse Pelter's nephew—the chap you hauled out of the river?" questioned Dick.
"The same," returned Tom. "Say, I think I'll go over and talk to him," he added, quickly.
"He may not want to talk to you, Tom," interposed his younger brother.
"I'll risk it;" and so speaking, Tom stepped forward and advanced to where the other youth was busy looking over the sporting edition of one of the afternoon sheets.
"What is it? I don't seem to remember you," said Barton Pelter, when Tom touched his arm.
"I am Tom Rover," was the reply. "This is my brother Sam, and this my brother Dick;" and Tom pointed to the others, who were coming up.