# The Eight-Oared Victors/Chapter 24
#### CHAPTER XXIV
##### BACK AT RANDALL

"This is the limit!"
"Where could he have gone?"
"He smelt a rat all right—he's sure mixed up in this business."
"And the quiet way he sneaked off! Let's find out if anyone saw him go."
Thus the chums exclaimed as the queer situation dawned upon them. Mr. Farson, too, was surprised, and did not know what to make of it.
"I think I will devote all my efforts to locating the pawnbroker," he said. "If I get the stuff back that belongs to other persons, I don't care so much about an arrest."
"But we'd like to solve the mystery, seeing that we had a hand in it," said Tom. "I wonder where Mendez could have gone?"
But no one knew—no one had seen him go. Later that evening, when the young men, after the jeweler had gone to his store, made inquiries of the owner of the cottage where the Mexican had ​been working all that day, they were told by a servant that a boy, coming In a boat, had brought a message to the caretaker. He had seemed surprised, and had hurried off, leaving his work partly finished, promising to return. But he did not, and that was the last seen of him—at least for the time being.
Evidently he had taken alarm at something, had hurried to the shack, hastily packed up his belongings, and fled in a boat. In fact the rowboat he generally used was missing.
As far as it went there was nothing criminal in his actions. There was no direct connection between him and the missing jewelry. He bore a good reputation among the cottagers, and had always done his work well. He was honest in his dealings, and his word could be taken in regard to the things he sold. Some of the cottagers even owed him for work performed.
"It's another mystery connected with this strange affair," said Tom, as he and his chums turned in for the night. "We may get to the bottom of it some day."
"I hope so," murmured Frank. "We've been doing more detective work than rowing of late. We'll have to buckle down from now on. College opens in three weeks."
Of course the flight of Mendez was known to the girls, as well as to all others on the island, but ​the circumstances connected with it, and the finding of the pawn tickets, was kept a secret.
I say from all, but that is not quite correct. Tom did tell Ruth all, and they both puzzled over the fact that there was no ticket for the brooch. But Tom did not tell Ruth what he had overheard between Boswell and Mendez.
"It might be Ruth's brooch that Boswell bought of Mendez, for his mother," reasoned Tom. "If Ruth thought so she might make a fuss and insist on having it back. Then, again, it might not be hers, and that would make trouble. I've got to investigate a little more before I tell her."
The Boswell family closed up their cottage the next week, and left for their mountain home, where the rich lad and his parents were to spend the rest of the vacation.
Our boys put in some hard practice in the shell, once or twice getting enough rowers so that they could use the eight. Mr. Pierson gave them valuable coaching. Then, on his advice, they gave themselves up to a good rest, and the enjoyment of camp life.
"You'll want a week or two when you don't see an oar," he explained. "There is such a thing as overdoing it. And you will soon be back at college you say, and begin hard training. So take a rest now."
And the boys did, though their "rest" ​consisted chiefly in giving the girls a good time. The wheezy little launch was worked to the limit.
Then came the approach of the college season. Several cottages on the island were closed. The girls said farewell to Madge, for they must spend some time with their own folks, and one day Tom remarked:
"Say, fellows, let's break camp. It's no fun here without the girls."
"That's right," agreed Sid, and so the tents were struck, and our heroes went their several ways to enjoy what was left of their vacation before again gathering at Randall. And in that time nothing new developed about the missing cups and jewelry. Nor was any word heard of the pawnbroker or Mendez.
"Hello, there's Dutch Housenlager, bigger than ever!"
"Yes, and there's Bricktop redder than ever. I say, Brick!"
"Hello, Parsons, you look as brown as a berry. What have you been doing with yourself?"
"Camping."
"You look it. I was at the shore—beastly hot, too!"
"Say, isn't the new boathouse swell?"
"Nothing like it. Oh, it's going to be great at Randall this Fall."
​"Over this way, Henderson! Where's Phil and Frank?" cried Tom.
"I don't know. I just got in. Have you been up to the room?"
"No, I just landed, too. Have you fed your face?"
"Not since I got here. Let's grub and then we'll open up the place. Hi, there, Snail! How's the night work?"
"Oh, so-so," replied Sam Looper, re-christened "Snail," because of his slowness, and his propensity for night prowling.
"Here come the Jersey twins!"
"That's right. I hope Jerry makes a good coxswain in the varsity eight," went on Tom. "We need him."
"Hear you did some practicing this Summer," remarked Dutch, as he playfully dug his elbow into Tom's ribs.
"We did. I'm anxious to get hold of an oar again. Have the new shells come?"
"I haven't heard. We'll inquire. I saw Mr. Lighten a bit ago."
It was the opening of Randall College for the Fall term, and our friends, as well as their chums, had returned not only to lessons but to sports as well—cross-country running, football—ever glorious football—and now and chiefly, rowing, for ​the regatta was to be held before the big battles of the gridiron took place.
"Come on!" cried Tom, as he spied his three chums. "Let's slip up to our room and talk things over."
This was after a more or less hurried meal had been eaten.
"And we sure have lots to talk about," remarked Sid. "But let's get through with it and take a run up to Fairview. I guess——"
"You guess the girls are there—that's what you guess!" interrupted Tom. "Hark to him, fellows. Isn't he the limit!"
And then, linking arms, the four inseparables strolled across the campus, through groups of students, toward their room.