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.
"Arnold Baxter!"
"I see you recognize me," was the harsh reply. "Not so loud, please, unless you want that crack I promised you."
