“What’s the matter, Dick?” asked Tom.

“Poor Sam is knocked out completely.  I don’t know but what they have killed him.”

“Oh, don’t say that!”

“Have you got a match?  I’ve lost that electric pocket light.”

“Yes.”  Tom struck the match and lit a bit of pine wood that was handy, and found the light.  “Dick, don’t tell me he is dead.”

“Oh!” came in a deep gasp from poor Sam, and he gave a shiver from head to feet.

“He isn’t dead, but they must have hit him a terrible blow.  Let us carry him out into the open air.”

This they did, and laid the youngest Rover on some boards.  Here he presently opened his eyes and stared about him.

“Don’t—­don’t hit me again!” he pleaded, vacantly.

“They shan’t hit you again, Sam,” answered Dick, tenderly.  He felt of his brother’s head.  On top was a lump, from which the blood was flowing.

“This is the worst yet,” said Tom.  “What had we best do next?”

“Call a policeman, if you can find any.”

“That’s rather a hard thing to do around here.”

However, Tom ran off, and while he was gone Dick did what little he could to make Sam comfortable.  At last the youngest Rover opened his eyes again and struggled to sit up.

“Where—­where are they, Dick?”

“Gone into the factory.”

“Oh, my head!”

“It was a wicked blow, Sam.  But keep still if your head hurts.”

When Tom came back he was accompanied by a watchman from a neighboring yard and presently they were joined by the watchman of the box factory, who had been to a corner groggery, getting a drink.

“What’s the row?” questioned the first watchman, and when told, emitted a low whistle.

“I think those fellows are in the factory yet,” continued Dick.

As soon as the second watchman came up both went into the box factory and were gone fully ten minutes.  Then Dick followed them, since Sam was rapidly recovering.

“Can’t find them,” said one of the watchmen.  “But yonder window is open.  They must have dropped into that yard and run away.”

“Is the window generally closed?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must be right.”

“Why don’t you call up the police?  You can do it on the telephone.”

“Have you a telephone here?”

“Of course.”

Dick went to the telephone and told the officer in charge at the station what had occurred.

“I’ll send two men at once,” said the officer over the wire; and in five minutes the policemen appeared.

Again there was a search, not only of the box factory, but also of the whole neighborhood, but no trace of Dan Baxter or Lew Flapp could be found.

Having bathed their hurts, both Sam and Tom felt better, and all three of the Rovers walked to the police station with the policemen, and there told the full particulars of their story.