"Tell us what?" demanded Tom, who quickly saw that Sam had something on his mind.
"Tell you the news."
"What news?" asked Dick.
"Maybe you can't stand it, Dick. It will keep till to-morrow."
"See here, Sam, I'm not a baby," retorted the oldest Rover boy. "If you've got anything worth telling tell it."
"But it may make your head ache worse, Dick."
"No, it won't. Now, what's the news? Out with it."
Instead of answering at once, Sam Rover walked over to the door and closed it carefully.
"No use of worrying the others about it," he half whispered.
"But what is it?" demanded Tom, and now he showed that he was as impatient as was Dick.
"I got a letter from Grace Laning," went on Sam, slowly, and turned a bit red. "She told me a piece of news that is bound to upset you, Dick."
"Is it about the Stanhopes—about Dora?" questioned Dick, half rising from the couch on which he rested.
"Yes,—and about some others, too. But don't get excited. Nothing very bad has happened, yet."
