"Yes. This must be Mr. Laning."
"Yes, my boy, I am John Laning," answered the farmer. "I will be down in a moment. We are in the habit of retiring early."
In a few minutes Tom was let into the house, and he told his story to John Laning, his wife, and the two girls, all of whom listened with interest.
Then a hired man was aroused, and the two men and the boy hurried to where the campfire had been located.
But, as stated before, Buddy and Nolly had made good use of their time, and no trace of them was to be found.
"They have skipped out," said Mr. Laning.
"To look for them will be worse than looking for spiders in a corn stack. I suppose you'll be getting back to Putnam Hall now?"
"If it is all the same, I would like to engage a room at your farmhouse for the night," answered Tom, and told his tale.
At the mention of Josiah Crabtree's name John Laning's face grew dark.
"I don't wonder you had a row with that man," he said. "I know him only too well. You can stay at my house if you will, and it shall not cost you a cent."