“Hullo!” cried the telegrapher, as he finished and looked up.  “Here is a message for Mr. Randolph Rover hot off the wire.  It won’t take long to deliver it,” and he handed it over.  “It’s paid for,” he added.  “But you’ll have to sign for it,” and Mr. Rover did so.

Eagerly all the Rovers read the communication, which ran as follows: 

“Am following man I want to catch if possible.  May be away from home several days or a week.  Very important to see man—­trip this summer depends upon it.

“Anderson Rover.”

“Wonder who the man can be?” mused Dick, after reading the message twice.

“He has something to do with this matter father was going to tell us about,” returned Sam.  “It’s certainly a mystery.”

“Well, this relieves our anxiety,” said Randolph Rover.  “So long as I know nothing has happened, your father can stay away as long as, he pleases.”

“But I am dying to know what it is all about,” burst out Tom, who was always impatient to get at the bottom of things.  “Uncle Randolph, do you know what father has in mind to do this summer?”

“He talks about taking a sea trip, but where to I don’t know.”

“And he wants us to go along?” queried the youngest Rover.

“I believe so, Samuel.”

“Hurrah!  I’d like a sea trip first rate.”

“Yes, but—­” Mr. Rover lowered his voice.  “He doesn’t want anybody to know where to.  It’s some kind of a secret—­very important, I imagine —­something to do with a gold mine, or something of the sort.  He did not give me any particulars.”

“He said he was going to let us know about it when we got home from the Hall,” said Dick.  “I hope he catches his man.”

“Wonder who it can be?” came from Tom.

Nobody could answer that question, and in a thoughtful mood the three Rover boys followed their uncle to the carriage and got in.  Then the team was touched up and away they whirled, out of the village, across Swift River, and in the direction of Valley Brook farm.

It was a beautiful day in June and never had the country looked finer.  As they swept along the well kept road Dick drew a deep breath of satisfaction.

“This air makes a fellow feel new all over!” he declared.

“I suppose you are going to plant and grow some wonderful things this summer, Uncle Randolph,” said Tom.  His uncle had studied scientific farming for years, but had never made any tremendous success of it in fact his experiments usually cost him considerably more than they brought in.

“Well—­er—­I am trying my hand this year on some Mexican melons said to be very fine, Thomas,” was the reply.

“Mexican melons?” said the fun-loving Tom, innocently.  “That puts me in mind when I was over to Albany last I saw a pumpkin in a restaurant window eight feet high and at least ten feet across.”

“Is it possible!” ejaculated Randolph Rover, gazing at his nephew incredulously.