“I was afraid it might be that.”

“What is it?” asked his brothers.

“That old irrigation scheme—­ the one run by Pelter, Japson & Company, of Wall Street, New York.”

“Why, I thought dad had dropped that,” said Sam, in surprise.

“He tried to.  But they held him to some agreement—­ I don’t know exactly what.  They wanted to get more money out of him—­ if they could.”

“And you think he went to New York on that account, Dick?” asked Tom.

“It looks so to me.”

“But that doesn’t account for his disappearance.”

“Perhaps it does.”

“What do you mean?”

“Those fellows may be holding him a prisoner, or they may even have put him out of the way altogether—­ although I doubt if they are as bad as all that.”

“Some men would do anything for money,” grumbled Sam.  “But what good would it do to hold him a prisoner?”

“They may want to force him to sign some papers, or give up some papers he is holding, Sam.  One thing is certain, they were very anxious to see him—­ these letters show that.”

“Hadn’t we better telegraph to them and see what they have to say?” suggested Tom.

“Perhaps, Tom—­ but, somehow, I don’t think that would be a wise move to make.  Father did not trust them.  He said they were sharpers.  If we sent them any word it might put them more on guard than they would otherwise be.  I think the best thing to do is to go to New York and interview them personally—­ if we don’t get word from dad before we leave.”

“I think——­” commenced Tom, and just then the telephone bell rang and all rushed to it.  Dick took up the receiver.

“Is this the Rovers’ house?” asked a voice over the wire.

“Yes.”

“I have a telegraph message for Richard Rover.”

“All right, Mr. Barnes,” answered Dick.  “What is it?” He had recognized the voice of the telegraph operator at Oak Run.

“Oh, it’s you, is it, Mr. Rover?” returned the operator.  “This is from New York City, and is signed, ‘Thomas A. Garley.’”

“Yes, yes!  Read the message!” cried Dick, and all three boys listened closely while Dick held the receiver.

“He says:  ’No news of Anderson Rover.  Better come on and investigate.’”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”  And the operator repeated the message.  “I’ll mail the sheet to you,” he added.

“All right, much obliged.”  Dick turned to his brothers.  “Shall I send word back that we are coming?” he questioned.

“Yes.”

“Take this message down, Mr. Barnes,” went on Dick, and dictated what he wished to say.  “I’ll settle next time I see you,” he added, and hung up the receiver.

The uncle and the aunt of the boys wished to know the news, if such it can be called, and the lads told them.  At once Mrs. Rover burst into tears.

“I am sure something has befallen Anderson!” she sobbed.  “Oh, what shall we do, Randolph?”