“This way! This way for the Rovers! Hello there! Who are you?”
“I’m Pete Apgar!” came the distant reply. “Where are you?”
“We’re up here at the hunting lodge!” called Jack. “This way, Pete!” and he continued to call until the person he was addressing came into view.
“Pete must have important news of some kind or else he wouldn’t come up here this time of day,” said Fred. “Why, he must have started from the farm last night!”
Pete Apgar was a young man who worked by the day in and around Dexter’s Corners. Quite a little of his time was put in at Valley Brook Farm and he had already spoken for a steady place on the Stevenson estate when that should be ready for occupancy.
“Gosh all hemlock!” panted Pete Apgar, as he came up and sank down on a bench and began to fan himself with the straw hat he wore. “I thought I was never going to get here. Some hike, I’ll say, from Valley Brook Farm to this place! I’ve been on the go ever since ten o’clock last night.”
“What brought you?” questioned Jack quickly. “No bad news, I hope?”
“I’m sorry to say it is bad news, Jack,” was Apgar’s reply.
“Somebody ill at the farm, or is it worse?” put in Randy.
“No, everybody’s all right on the farm, although old Grandpop Rover ain’t as good as he might be. But this news is from New York—from your folks down there. There’s been a robbery.”