st, and as the summer was proving to be
an unusually warm one, all the older Rovers were glad enough to take it
easy on the farm, they having earlier in the season been down to the
seashore for a couple of weeks. Dick, Tom and Sam had each taken a week
off at various times, and all managed to get down to the farm early
every Saturday afternoon, to remain until Sunday night or Monday
morning.

And it was late on a Saturday afternoon, when the ladies and the girls
had gone to Dexter's Corners to do some shopping, and while the fathers
were busy reading and writing, that the events occurred with which the
present story opens.

As Dick Rover ran into the farmhouse he heard a slight scream coming
from the sitting-room. The scream was followed by exclamations from two
men, and then a wild thumping as if someone was hitting the floor with
a cane.

"It's a mouse--several of 'em!" came in the voice of Grandfather Rover.

"Oh, my! oh, my! wherever did they come from?" exclaimed old Aunt
Martha.

"Never mind where they came from, I'll fix 'em," asserted old Randolph
Rover, and then followed another thumping as he rushed around between
the chairs and behind the sofa, trying to slaughter some of the
scampering mice with his heavy walking stick.

"Where are they? Where are those mice?" demanded Tom Rover, giving a
hasty glance around the kitchen.

"There is one--under the sink!" ejaculated his brother Sam, and
catching up a stove lifter he let fly with such accurate aim that the
unhappy rodent was despatched on the spot.

"I see another one back of the pantry door," said Tom Rover a moment
later, and then made a dive into the pantry. Here, in a side closet,
the door of which was partly open, he saw a broom and grabbed it
quickly. Then he made a wild pass at the mouse, but the rodent eluded
him and scrambled over the kitchen floor and into the sitting-room.

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Did you ever see so many mice?" came in a wailing
voice from Aunt Martha. She had clambered up on a chair and stood there
holding her dress tightly around her feet.

"It's another of those boys' tricks, that's what it is," asserted
Grandfather Rover. "They ought to be punished for it."

"Yes. But we've got to get rid of these mice first," answered his
brother.

Then Randolph Rover, seeing a mouse scampering across the side of the
room, threw his walking stick at it with all his force. But his aim was
poor and the walking stick, striking the edg