Bøger af Edward Stratemeyer

Birthplace and Ancestry of Theodore Roosevelt-His Father's Philanthropy-City and Country Home-Days at School-Religious Training "Our country calls not for the life of ease, but for the life of strenuous endeavor. The twentieth century looms before us big with the fate of many nations. If we stand idly by, if we seek merely swollen, slothful ease and ignoble peace, if we shrink from the hard contests where men must win at hazard of their lives and at the risk of all they hold dear, then the bolder and stronger peoples will pass us by and will win for themselves the domination of the world.

"Hurrah, boys, the lake is frozen over! We'll be sure to have good skating by to-morrow afternoon!" "That's fine news, Tom," came from Sam Rover. "I've been fairly aching for a skate ever since that cold snap of two weeks ago." "We'll have to start up some skating matches if good skating does really turn up," put in Dick Rover, who had just joined his two brothers in the gymnasium attached to Putnam Hall. "Don't you remember those matches we had last year?"

"Boys, what do you say to a trip in the Dartaway this afternoon?" "Suits me, Sam," replied Tom Rover. "Providing the breeze doesn't get too strong," returned Dick Rover, as he put up his hand to feel the air. "Oh, I don't think it will blow too much," went on Sam Rover. "I don't mind some air." "But no more storms for me!" cried his brother Tom, with a shake of his head. "That last old corker was enough for me." "Where shall we go?" questioned Dick, with a queer little smile creeping around the corners of his mouth.

"Hurrah! that's the way to do it!" "Now, then, Tom, see if you can't bring Dick home!" "Give him a swift one, Frank! Don't let him hit it!" cried Sam Rover, merrily. "I'll knock it down into the river!" retorted Tom Rover, as he caught up a bat and walked to the home plate. "I'm waiting for you, Tom!" sang out Dick Rover, who had just reached second base on a beautiful drive to right field. "Come now, it's time we tied the score." "Everybody in the game!" yelled Stanley Browne, who was in the coacher's box. "Here is where we do 'em up!"

"Well, Dick, here we are in San Francisco at last." "Yes, Tom, and what a fine large city it is." "We'll have to take care, or we'll get lost," came from a third boy, the youngest of the party. "Just listen to Sam!" cried Tom Rover. "Get lost! As if we weren't in the habit of taking care of ourselves." "Sam is joking," came from Dick Rover. "Still we might get lost here as well as in New York or any other large city." "Boston is the place to get lost in," said Tom Rover. "Got streets that curve in all directions. But let us go on. Where is the hotel?"

"We're making time now, Tom." "Making time?" repeated Tom Rover as he gazed out of the car window at the telegraph poles flashing past. "I should say we were, Sam! Why, we must be running sixty miles an hour!" "If we are not we are making pretty close to it," came from a third boy of the party in the parlor car. "I think the engineer is trying to make up some of the time we lost at the last stop."

"Sam!" No answer. "I say, Sam, can't you listen for just a moment?" "Oh, Tom, please don't bother me now!" and Sam Rover, with a look of worry on his face, glanced up for a moment from his writing-table. "I've got to finish this theme before to-morrow morning." "Oh, I know! But listen!" And Tom Rover's face showed his earnestness. "Last night it was full moonlight, and to-night it is going to be equally clear. Why can't we get out the auto and pay a visit to Hope? You know we promised the girls that we would be up some afternoon or evening this week."

"Whoop! hurrah! Zip, boom, ah! Rockets!" "For gracious' sake, Tom, what's all the racket about? I thought we had all the noise we wanted last night, when we broke up camp." "It's news, Dick, glorious news," returned Tom Rover, and he began to dance a jig on the tent flooring. "It's the best ever."

"Back to Putnam Hall again, boys! Hurrah!" "Yes, back again, Tom, and glad of it," returned Dick Rover. "I can tell you, the academy is getting to be a regular second home." "Right you are, Dick," came from Sam Rover, the youngest of the three brothers. "I'd rather be here than up to the farm, even if Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha are kind and considerate. The farm is so slow-" "While here we have our full share of adventures and more," finished Tom. "I wonder what will happen to us this term? The other terms kept us mighty busy, didn't they?" "I'm not looking for any more outside adventures," said Dick, with a serious shake of his head. "Our enemies have been disposed of, and I don't want, to hear of or see them again." "Nor I-but we'll hear of them, nevertheless, mark my words. The Baxters won't leave us rest. They are a hard crowd, and Buddy Girk is just as bad," finished Tom.

The Rover Boys in Southern Waters By Edward Stratemeyer

"Now for a home run, Jack!" "Soak it out over the bleachers!" "Show the Hixley boys what we can do!" "Give him a swift one, Dink! Don't let him hit it!" "Oh, dear, I do hope Jack scores!" came in a sweet, girlish voice. "Of course he'll score!" returned a youth sitting near the girl who had made the remark. "He's been holding back for just this chance." "Oh, do you think so?" asked another girl in the grandstand. "Surest thing ever was," was the airy rejoinder. "This is the time we're going to show the Hixley boys what's what." "Not on your life!" bellowed a heavy voice from the rear. "Here is where Colby Hall gets snowed under." Then came a series of yells, followed by the tooting of horns and the sounding of rattles, making a din that was almost ear-splitting. The occasion was the annual baseball game between Hixley High and Colby Hall. It had been scheduled to take place on the high-school athletic field, but at almost the last minute this field had been declared out of condition, and it had been decided to hold the contest on the athletic grounds attached to the military academy.

"Hurry up, Sam, unless you want to be left behind!" "I'm coming!" shouted Sam Rover, as he crossed the depot platform on the run. "Where is Tom?" "He went ahead, to get two good seats for us," answered Dick Rover. He looked around the crowd that had gathered to take the train. "Hi, there, Songbird, this way! Come in this car, Hans!" "Say, aren't you fellows coming aboard?" came a voice from the nearest car, and a curly-topped head with a pair of laughing eyes appeared. "Folks crowding in to beat the band! Come on in if you want seats." "We'll be in directly," answered Sam, and followed his brother Dick to the car steps. Here there was quite a jam, and the Rover boys had all they could do to get into the car, followed by half a dozen of their school chums. But Tom Rover had managed to keep seats for all, and they sat "in a bunch," much to their satisfaction. Then the train rolled out of the station, and the journey homeward was begun. The term at Putnam Hall Military Academy was at an end, and the school days of the three Rover boys at that institution were now a thing of the past. Each had graduated with honors, yet all were a trifle sad to think that there would be no going back to a place where they had made so many friends. "It's almost like giving up your home," Dick had said, several times, while at the actual parting Sam had had to do his best to keep back the tears which welled up in his eyes. Even fun-loving Tom had stopped a good deal of his whistling and had looked unusually sober.

"Dick, do you notice how the wind is freshening?" "Yes, Sam, I've been watching it for ten minutes. I think we are in for a storm." "Exactly my idea, and I shouldn't be surprised if it proved a heavy one, too. How far are we from shore?" "Not over three miles, to my reckoning." "Perhaps we had better turn back," and Sam Rover, the youngest of the three Rover brothers, shook his head doubtfully. "Oh, I reckon we'll be safe enough," responded Dick Rover, who was several years older. "I know more about sailing a yacht than I did when we followed up the Baxters on the Atlantic Ocean." "The poor Baxters!" put in Tom Rover, who stood close by, also watching the wind, and the heavy clouds rolling up from the westward. "Who ever supposed that they would be buried alive in that landslide on the mountain in Colorado?" "It was a terrible fate," came, with a shudder, from Dick Rover. "But, nevertheless, I am glad we are rid of those rascals. They caused father and us trouble enough, goodness knows." "And they brought trouble enough to Dora Stanhope and her mother, too," observed Sam. "By the way, Dick, weren't Dora and her mother going to take a trip on these lakes this summer?" "Of course Dora was," put in Tom, with a sly wink. "If she wasn't, what do you suppose would bring Dick here? He got a letter only last week-" "Oh, stow it, Tom!" cried the elder Rover, his face growing red. "You wanted to take a trip on the Great Lakes as much as anybody-said you wouldn't like anything better, and told all the fellows at Putnam Hall so, too." "Well, I don't know as I would like anything better," rattled on Tom.

"Say, Tom, what's that big thing coming down the river?" "I'm sure I don't know, Sam. It's big enough to be a house." replied Tom Rover. "Maybe it is a house," came from Dick Rover, who was standing beside his brothers on the rear deck of the houseboat which was taking them down the Mississippi River. "A house?" broke in a distinctly German voice. "Did you mean to said dere vos a house floating der rifer town, Dick Rofer?" "Why not, Hansy, my boy?" replied fun-loving Tom Rover, before his big brother could answer. "Hasn't a house got a right to take a float if it wants to? Perhaps it's out for its health." "Ach, you vos choking, Tom!" cried Hans Mueller. "Of a house been der rifer on, dere peen somedings wrong mit him alretty." "It's a lumber raft, Hans," said Dick. "And a whopping big one, too," he added, as he took another look at the object that was approaching the houseboat. "Hope it doesn't give us such a close shave as that raft we met two days ago," said Sam anxiously. "I was almost certain they were going to run into us." "They have got no business to run so close to this houseboat," grumbled Tom. "They know well enough that we can't turn out of our course very well. I think some of those lumbermen are the toughest kind of citizens." "If they get too close, I'll shout a warning through the megaphone," went on Dick, after a brief pause. "It certainly does look as if they intended to crowd us," he continued anxiously.

This is a reproduction of a book published before 1923. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book. ++++ The below data was compiled from various identification fields in the bibliographic record of this title. This data is provided as an additional tool in helping to ensure edition identification: ++++ Bound To Be An Electrician, Or, Franklin Bell's Success; Issue 1 Of Bound To Win Series Edward Stratemeyer William L, Allison & Co., 1897

"Whoop! hurrah! Zip, boom, ah! Rockets!" "For gracious' sake, Tom, what's all the racket about? I thought we had all the noise we wanted last night, when we broke up camp." "It's news, Dick, glorious news," returned Tom Rover, and he began to dance a jig on the tent flooring. "It's the best ever." "It won't be glorious news if you bring this tent down on our heads," answered Dick Rover. "Have you discovered a gold mine?" "Better than that, Dick. I've discovered what we are going to do with ourselves this summer." "I thought we were going back to the farm, to rest up, now that the term at Putnam Hall is at an end." "Pooh! Who wants to rest? I've rested all I wish right in this encampment." "Well, what's the plan? Don't keep us in 'suspenders, ' as Hans Mueller would say." "Dear old Hansy! That Dutch boy is my heart's own!" cried Tom, enthusiastically. "I could not live without him. He must go along." "Go along where?" "On our outing this summer?" "But where do you propose to go to, Tom?" "For a trip on the broad and glorious Ohio River." "Eh?" "That's it, Dick. We are to sail the briny deep of that river in a houseboat. Now, what do you think of that?" "I'd like to know what put that into your head, Tom," came from the tent opening, and Sam Rover, the youngest of the three brothers, stepped into view. "Uncle Randolph put it into my head, not over half an hour ago, Sam. It's this way: You've heard of John V. Black of Jackville?" "The man that owed Uncle Randolph some money?" "Exactly. Well, Black is a bankrupt, or next door to it. He couldn't pay Uncle Randolph what was coming to him, so he turned over a houseboat instead. She's a beauty, so I am told, and she is called the Dora-" "After Dora Stanhope, of course," interrupted the youngest Rover, with a quizzical look at his big brother Dick

"Luff up a little, Sam, or the Spray will run on the rocks." "All right, Dick. I haven't got sailing down quite as fine as you yet. How far do you suppose we are from Albany?" "Not over eight or nine miles. If this wind holds out we'll make that city by six o'clock. I'll tell you what, sailing on the Hudson suits me first-rate." "And it suits me, too," put in Tom Rover, addressing both of his brothers. "I like it ten times better than staying on Uncle Randolph's farm." "But I can't say that I like it better than life at Putnam Hall," smiled Sam Rover, as he threw over the tiller of the little yacht. "I'm quite anxious to meet Captain Putnam and Fred, Frank, and Larry again." "Oh, so am I," answered Tom Rover. "But an outing on the Hudson is just the best of a vacation. By the way, I wonder if all of our old friends will be back?" "Most of them will be." "And our enemies?" "Dan Baxter won't come back," answered Dick seriously. "He ran away to Chicago with two hundred dollars belonging to his father, and I guess that's the end of him-so far as Putnam Hall and we are concerned. What a bully he was!" "I feel it in my bones, Dick, that we'll meet Dan Baxter again," came from Sam Rover.

The Rover Boys in New York By Edward Stratemeyer

"Now then, boys, are you ready?" "I am!" "Been ready for the last five minutes!" "Sure you've got all the snowballs you can carry?" "I couldn't carry any more if I tried," came from Sam Rover, with a grin. "Just see how I am loaded up," and he glanced down at both hands, which were filled with snowballs, and at the snowballs held under either arm. "I've got some dandy hard ones," put in Spud Jackson. "Oh, you can't use soakers, Spud!" cried Stanley Browne, who was the leader of the snowballing contingent. "That's against the rules." "They are not soakers, Stanley," was the reply. "They are only good and hard, that's all." "Hi, you fellows! When are you going to start things?" came a cry from behind a snow wall up the slope of a hill. "We can't waste the whole afternoon waiting for you." "We're coming, don't fear," answered Stanley Browne. "And when we arrive you won't know what's struck you," announced Sam Rover gaily. "It's all vell enough to brag, but you'd chust better start dot fight," came in German-American accents from behind the snow wall, and a merry face appeared in sight for an instant and a fist was shaken playfully at those beyond. "Sound that bugle, Paul!" yelled the leader of the attacking party, and an instant later the mellow notes of a bugle floated out on the crisp, wintry air.

"Jack, it looks as if we were in for another storm." "Yes, and it's starting right now," declared Captain Jack Rover, as he glanced through the trees to the overcast sky. "Don't you hear it on the leaves?" "It does beat everything!" declared Andy Rover, his usually bright face clouding a bit. "It has rained enough in the past two weeks to last a year." "Do you know, I like these constant rains less than I liked being snowbound up at Cedar Lodge," put in Lieutenant Fred Rover. "Oh, there was some fun in being snowbound," declared Randy Rover. "A fellow could go out in it and have the best time ever. But what can a chap do when the rain is coming down to beat the band?" "Well, you can go out and get a shower-bath free of charge," commented his twin gaily. "I'll take my showers in the gym," was the quick reply. "Gee! listen to that, will you?" There was no need for any of the four Rover boys to listen, or to look, either. A blinding flash of lightning had swept the sky, followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder in the woods behind them. Then followed another crash, as of falling timber. "It struck a tree, I'll bet a new cap!" exclaimed Jack. "Yes, and it was a little bit too close for comfort, too," answered his cousin Fred. The thunder and lightn

This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

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"Hi, there, Duncan Woodward!" I called out. "What are you doing in Widow Canby's orchard?" "None of your business, Roger Strong," replied the only son of the wealthiest merchant in Darbyville. "You are stealing her pears," I went on. "Your pockets are full of them." "See here, Roger Strong, just you mind your own business and leave me alone." "I am minding my business," I rejoined warmly. "Indeed!" And Duncan put as much of a sneer as was possible in the word. "Yes, indeed. Widow Canby pays me for taking care of her orchard, and that includes keeping an eye on these pear trees," and I approached the tree upon the lowest branch of which Duncan was standing. "Humph! You think you're mighty big!" he blustered, as he jumped to the ground. "What right has a fellow like you to talk to me in this manner? You are getting too big for your boots."

This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic, timeless works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

"Fo' de land sakes, Massa Dick, wot am dat contraption yo' boys dun put togedder back ob de bahn yesterday?" "Why, Aleck, don't you know what that is?" returned Dick Rover, with a smile at the colored man. "That's a biplane." "A biplane, eh?" repeated Alexander Pop, the colored helper around the Rover homestead. He scratched his woolly head thoughtfully. "Yo' don't mean to say it am lak a plane a carpenter man uses, does yo', Massa Dick? 'Pears lak to me it was moah lak some ship sails layin' down, -somethin' lak dem ships we see over in Africy, when we went into dem jungles to find yo' fadder." "No, it has nothing to do with a carpenter's[2] plane, Aleck," answered Dick, with a laugh. "A biplane is a certain kind of a flying machine." "Wat's dat? A flyin' machine? Shorely, Massa Dick, yo' ain't gwine to try to fly?" exclaimed Aleck, in horror. "That is just what I am going to do, Aleck, after I have had a few lessons. I hope to fly right over the house, just like a bird." "No! no! Don't you try dat, Massa Dick! You'll break yo' neck suah! Don't yo' try it! I-I can't allow it nohow-an' yo' aunt won't allow it neither!" And the colored man shook his head most emphatically

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

"All out for Oak Run!" shouted the brakeman of the train, as he thrust his head in through the doorway of the car. "Step lively, please!" "Hurrah for home!" shouted a curly-headed youth of sixteen, as he caught up a small dress-suit case. "Come on, Sam." "I'm coming, Tom," answered a boy a year younger. "Where is Dick?" "Here I am," replied Dick Rover, the big brother of the others. "Just been in the baggage car, making sure the trunks would be put off," he added. "Say, but this looks natural, doesn't it, after traveling thousands of miles across the Pacific?" "And across the Continent from San Francisco," put in Sam Rover. "Do you know, I feel as if I'd been away for an age?" "It's what we've gone through with that makes you feel that way, Sam," came from Tom Rover. "Just think of being cast away on a lonely island like Robinson Crusoe! Why, half the folks won't believe our story when they hear it." "They'll have to believe it." Sam hopped down to the depot platform, followed by the others. "Wonder if the folks got that telegram I forwarded from Buffalo?" "They must have, for there is Jack with the big carriage," said Tom, and walked over to the turnout he mentioned. "Hullo, Jack!" he called out. "How is everybody?" "Master Tom!" ejaculated Jack Ness, the Rovers' hired man. "Back at last, are you, an' safe an' sound?" "Sound as a dollar, Jack. How are the folks?" "Your father is putty well, and so is your Uncle Randolph. Your Aunt Martha got so excited a-thinkin' you was coming hum she got a headache." "Dear Aunt Martha!" murmured Tom.