“You can report to me,” answered Job Haskers, with increased severity. “There is no need to bother the doctor, and Mr. Dale has gone away for over Sunday.”
“Well, boys, back again!” cried a cheery voice from an upper landing, and then Doctor Clay came down, wearing his gown and slippers. “A wild storm to be out in. I am glad you got back safely.”
“They are late—and you said you gave them no permission to be out after hours,” said Job Haskers, tartly.
“Hum! Did I?” mused the kindly head of the school. “Well, when it storms like this it, of course, makes some difference.”
“We would have been back in time only we were robbed of our skates and some other things,” answered Dave. “We had to walk a long distance through the storm, and we’d not be here yet if we hadn’t managed to hire a farmer to bring us in his sleigh.”
“Robbed!” echoed Doctor Clay, catching at the word. “How was that?” And he listened with keen interest to what the boys had to tell. Even Job Haskers became curious, and said no more about penalizing them for being late.
“And you are sure the fellows were Merwell and Jasniff?” asked the assistant teacher.
“All I know on that point is what Mallory and his chums had to say,” answered Dave.
“I think it would be like that pair to follow you up,” said Doctor Clay, with a grave shake of his head. “They are two very bad boys,—worse, Porter, than you can imagine,” and he looked knowingly at Job Haskers as he spoke. “Now go in to supper, and after that, you, Porter, Morr, and Lawrence, may come to my study and talk the matter over further.”
Wondering what else had happened to upset the head of the school, Dave followed his chums to the dining-hall. Here a late supper awaited the crowd, to which, it is perhaps needless to state, all did full justice.