“Did he go to the Lanings?”

“No.”

“Probably he was afraid of your uncle.  Mr. Laning won’t stand for any nonsense.  I suppose your mother is afraid he’ll come back?”

“Yes; and to protect herself she has hired one of the farm men to sleep in the house.  The man was once in the army, and he knows how to use a gun.”

“Then that will make Sobber keep his distance.  He is a coward at heart.  I found that out when we went to Putnam Hall together,”

“But you must beware of him, Dick.  He may show himself here next.”

“It won’t do him any good.  All I’ve got here is a little spending money.  No, I don’t think he’ll show himself here.  More than likely he’ll try to hire some shyster lawyer to fight for the treasure in the courts.  But I don’t think he’ll be able to upset your claim.”

They had now reached Hope Seminary, and the conversation came to an end.  The boys helped the girls to alight, and said good-by.  Then they drove back to Ashton, where the buggy was left at the livery stable; and all piled into the carriage for the college.  On the way Dick told his brothers about Tad Sobber.

“Dora is right.  He is a bad egg,” said Sam.  “I wouldn’t trust him under any consideration,”

“He is too much of a coward to attack anybody openly,” was Tom’s comment.  “But as Dick says, he may hire some shyster lawyer to take the matter into the courts.  It would be too bad if the fortune was tied up in endless litigation.”

“He’s got to get money to fight with first,” said Dick.

“Oh, some lawyers will take a case like that on a venture.”

“That’s true.”

Several days passed quietly, and the Rover boys applied themselves diligently to their studies, for they wished to make fine records at Brill.

“We are here to get a good education,” was the way Dick expressed himself, “and we want to make the most of our time.”

“As if I wasn’t boning away to beat the band!” murmured Tom reproachfully.

“I’d like to take the full course in about two years,” came from Sam.

“College studies are mighty hard,” broke in Songbird, who was working over his chemistry.  “I don’t get any chance to write poetry any more.”

“For which let us all be truly thankful,” murmured Sam to Tom.

“Ten minutes more,” announced Dick, looking at his watch.  “Then what do you say to a row on the river?”

“Suits me!” cried Tom.

“All right, then.  Now clear out, and—­silence!”

A quarter of an hour later the Rover boys and Songbird walked down to the river.  There were plenty of boats to be had, and Dick and Tom were soon out.  Songbird and Sam received an invitation to go for a ride in a gasolene launch owned by Stanley.

“Suits me!” cried the would-be poet.  “I can row any time, but I can’t always ride in a motor boat.”

“Same here,” said Sam.