“I’d give five dollars to be back at the Hall,” he muttered to himself. “Wonder if I can walk the distance before it gets too light? If any person sees me on the road with the rubber boots and this horse blanket they’ll take me for a lunatic.” He gave a deep sigh. “I suppose I must be two miles away, at least. They said four, but maybe they piled it on.”
Several times the bully thought of starting out but gave it up, thinking he might lose his way; but when it became lighter he took a look around the loft and presently descended the ladder to the ground floor of the carriage house.
“Hi, you tramp! Wot be you a-doin’ up there, tell me that?” cried a voice from the other end of the building.
“I’m no tramp, sir,” answered Baxter. “I am—Peleg Snuggers!”
“If it ain’t Master Baxter!” ejaculated the general utility man, who had just started in on his morning work. “Well, I never! How did you git here?”
“What place is this, Peleg?”
“Wot place? Why, the carriage house, o’ course.”
“What!” yelled Dan Baxter; and at that instant he was by far the maddest boy the school ever contained.
“Sure. Wot did you think it was, eh?”
“Never mind. Is the back door to the Hall open?”