questioned the youngest brother sleepily.

Before Tom could reply they heard Dick getting up, and also their Uncle
Randolph and Aunt Martha.

"What did that shot mean?" demanded Randolph Rover, coming toward the
boys' rooms. "Did any of you fire it?"

"No, it came from outside," returned Torn. "Hark!"

"Hullo, in the house!" came in the voice of Jack Ness. "Wake up,
everybody! Something is wrong!"

After this it did not take long for those upstairs to slip into some
clothing, and go below. Randolph Rover ran to the side door, to find it
wide open. Dick lit the hall lamp.

"Saw a man running across the garden," said Jack Ness, who had his
shot-gun with him. "I yelled to him to stop, and then fired the gun. I
think he came from the house."

"How did you happen to be up?" asked Sam.

"One of the horses is sick, and I was attending to him."

By this time some of the others were looking into the various rooms.

"The desk has been broken open!" cried Dick. "And the pantry in the
corner, too!"

"Mercy, save us!" shrieked Mrs. Rover, from the kitchen. "Come here at
once. Poor Anderson has been killed!"

"Killed!" gasped Tom; and then all ran to the kitchen as quickly as
they could.

They found Anderson Rover lying where he had fallen, and still
unconscious. There was a lump on his forehead, and a thin stream of
blood trickled down one side of his face.

"Thank heaven, he is not dead!" murmured Dick, as he knelt beside his
father. "But he has been struck some cruel blows. Somebody fetch water
and a bandage."

The water was procured, and also a bandage, and under skillful
treatment, Anderson Rover was presently restored to consciousness.

"Where--where is he?" he questioned, when he could speak.

"Do you mean the person who struck you down?" asked Dick.

"Ye--yes."

"I don't know. Got away, I guess."

"The villain! He attacked me most foully!"

"I saw him running across the garden," put in the hired man. "Did he
steal anything?"

"To be sure he stole something," said Sam. "He ransacked the whole
lower floor, by the looks of things."

"Wonder who it was?" put in Tom.

"It was Arnold Baxter," answered his father.

"Arnold Baxter!" cried the others in chorus.

"Are you certain?" asked Dick.

"Yes. He struck me down, and then lit the bit of tallow candle you see
lying there. Then we struggled, and he hit me again, and that is all I
know. But I am sure it was Baxter, for I spoke to him. He accused