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The Rover Boys Under Canvas; Or, The Mystery of the Wrecked Submarine. Stratemeyer EdwardЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Rover Boys Under Canvas; Or, The Mystery of the Wrecked Submarine - Stratemeyer Edward


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      But for quite a while now none of the Rovers had seen or heard anything more of Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell. But they were destined to hear more from these two unworthies, and in a most unusual fashion.

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      “Oh, I do hope Mary is safe!” cried Martha Rover, as she and the others ran toward where the automobiles which had brought them over to Colby Hall from the girls’ boarding school were standing.

      “So far those explosions haven’t reached Clearwater Hall,” answered her brother Jack. “But there is no telling what a real heavy explosion may do.”

      “That’s just it!” burst out his cousin Randy. “For all we know, those Hasley people may have a large quantity of TNT or some other high explosive stored there, and if that should go up—good-night!”

      “It would be fierce!”

      “I think it’s awful to allow those ammunition people to have their works so close to a town,” was Ruth Stevenson’s comment.

       Boom! Boom!

      Two more explosions rent the air. Then followed a series of poppings like the discharge of a machine gun.

      “Those must be some of the small shells going off,” said Andy. “Gosh, what a shame they couldn’t have held this back until the Fourth of July!” he added. Andy would probably have wanted to joke at his own funeral.

      The Rovers and their girl friends were soon seated in the automobiles which they had used earlier in the day to bring the girls to Colby Hall. With them went as many of the other cadets and their friends as could pile into the machines or hang fast to the running boards. All of the ball players went in their baseball outfits, not taking time to change to their uniforms.

      The Rovers and their friends were among the first to leave the military institution, and for this reason they got away without any trouble. They had scarcely departed when Captain Mapes Dale, the military instructor attached to the school, appeared and forbade any more of the cadets to leave the grounds.

      “There is no telling how dangerous those explosions may become,” said Captain Dale, “and Colonel Colby thinks it is best that you remain here where it is comparatively safe. Even as it is, we may have some big shells coming this way.”

      The Hasley Shell Loading Company had been located on the opposite shore of Clearwater Lake for a number of years previous to the opening of the war in Europe. But at that time it had been only a small concern, employing but a handful of men. A year after the opening of hostilities, however, the plant had been enlarged, and now, since the entrance of the United States into the war, the force of workmen had been again doubled and many additional buildings had been erected, some along the lake front and others in the hills further back. A spur of the railroad had also been built to the plant, and on this were numerous cars, all painted to show the dangerous nature of the freight they were destined to carry.

      On two different occasions the Rover boys and their chums had rowed over to the vicinity of the shell-loading works to look at what was going on. Guards around the works, however, had kept them from landing or even getting within a reasonable distance of the place. This, they knew, was done because the authorities feared that some spies might try to get into the buildings with a view to blowing them up.

      “Gee, that certainly sounds like war!” cried Andy, as the explosions continued. There was a continual popping of small shells, punctured every now and then by a decidedly heavier explosion.

      “My gracious! Look at that!” burst out Jack a moment later.

      What the oldest Rover boy referred to was a curious explosion of a quantity of shells which seemed to go up in the form of an immense sheaf of wheat. Thousands of small objects filled the air, flying off in all directions of the compass.

      “I’ll bet we’ll get some of those over here!” exclaimed Gif Garrison, who was clinging to the running board of the machine.

      And he was right. Only a few seconds later several small bits of metal came down around them, two striking the hood of the automobile and one falling into the tonneau on Ruth’s lap.

      It did not take those in the automobile long to cover the half mile which lay between them and Haven Point, where the railroad station was located. Here they found the town people in great excitement, and learned that steps were already being taken to care for any of the workmen who might be injured by the explosions.

      “Of course we have no idea yet how many people have been killed or wounded,” declared a policeman who gave the cadets this information. “We are all upset because we don’t know how bad the explosions may get. If they don’t get any worse than they have been, we’ll be thankful.”

      The cadets and their girl friends did not remain long in Haven Point. All were anxious to get to Clearwater Hall, to learn if that place was much damaged. The girls’ school was directly opposite the shell-loading plant, and consequently more liable to suffer than the town or Colby Hall.

      “Look at them getting away from that place, will you?” cried Fred, who had come as far as Haven Point on another automobile and then had rejoined his cousins. He pointed to the lake, where a number of rowboats and other craft were leaving the vicinity of the explosions.

      “You can’t blame them for wanting to get away,” returned Jack. “It may mean life or death to them.”

      “Oh, I hope nobody has been killed!” murmured Ruth.

      “I’m afraid, Ruth, that’s too much to expect,” answered Jack soberly.

      “Oh, I just think war is too horrible for anything!” cried out Alice Strobell, who was along.

      “I just wish they could sink all those Germans in their old submarines!” declared Annie Larkins who was also in the crowd.

      “I guess we’d all be willing to subscribe to that!” cried Randy.

      “You just wait until Uncle Sam gets into this scrap,” declared Jack. “We’ll show ’em what’s what!”

      “How I wish I could go to the front,” said Andy wistfully. “It would beat going to school all hollow.”

      “Now that we’ve gone into the war, we’ll have an army over there before long,” said Spouter. “I suppose they’ll send some of the regulars over first, and then some of the national guard—of course taken into the regular army—and after that we’ll have the volunteers. I suppose if Uncle Sam really wanted to do it, he could get together several million men without half trying. And with an army like that, properly trained and equipped, and transported to the battlefields of Europe, we shall be sure to make a showing which will throw terror into the hearts of——”

      “Hurrah! Spouter is off again,” broke in Randy.

      “Say, Spout! they ought to send you to the front to help talk the Huns to death,” put in Andy. “Talk about gas and gas masks——”

      “Aw say! you’re always butting in when I’ve got something to say,” growled the lad who loved to talk.

      There might have been a little friction right then and there, but another explosion came from across Clearwater Lake, and all stopped to gaze at the thick volume of yellowish-black smoke which rolled directly toward them.

      “The wind must be shifting,” declared


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