CHAPTER XXVII
THE TRAIL THROUGH THE WOODS
In a minute the servant ushered in a farmer whom the boys recognized as Henry Morrison, a man who had a farm along the river-front, about a mile from Oak Hall.
“Good-morning, sir,” said the farmer, bowing to the doctor and then to the boys. “Excuse me for being in such a hurry, but I thought you would like to know.”
“I’ll be glad to hear what you have to say, Mr. Morrison,” replied the master of the school. “Sit down,” and he pointed to a handy chair.
“It’s about that wild man, Doctor Clay!” exclaimed the farmer, dropping into the seat and mopping his forehead with his handkerchief. “It’s something terribul, the way he carries on. He ’most scared my wife to death!”
“He has been to your place again?”
“Yes, sir, last night. He was in the barn, and he jumped out at my wife and said he was going to blow the fort to pieces! She got so scared she dropped her pailful of milk and ran to the house. 260 I got mad and got my shotgun, but the fellow had skipped out before I could catch sight of him.”