"I think I had better go around and see that all the doors and windows
are properly locked," he told himself. "Brother Randolph may have
overlooked one of them."

He walked the length of the hallway, and stepped into the kitchen and
over to a side window.

As he had his hand on the window-latch he heard a quick step directly
behind him.

He started to turn, but before he could do so he received a blow on the
head from a club that staggered him. Then he was jerked backward to the
floor.

"Silence!" muttered a voice close to his ear. "Don't you dare to make a
sound!"

"What does this mean--" he managed to gasp.

"Silence, I tell you!" was the short answer. "If you say another word,
I will hit you again!"

Having no desire to receive a blow that might render him totally
unconscious, or, perhaps, take his life, Anderson Rover said no more.
He heard a match struck, and then a bit of a tallow candle was lit and
placed on the edge of the kitchen table.

By this dim light the father of the Rover boys saw standing over him a
tall man, beardless, and with his head closely cropped. One glance into
that hardened face sufficed to tell him who the unwelcome visitor was.