The sound of approaching wagon wheels disturbed him in the midst of a depressing reverie.
"It's Mr. Dale," said Andy, getting up from the log and viewing the approaching team. "I wanted to see you, Mr. Dale," he spoke aloud as the carry-all came abreast of him.
"Oh, hello, you, Wildwood," spoke the farmer with a grin. "Playing hookey, eh?"
"No, sir," answered Andy frankly. "I was expelled from school this morning."
"Do tell me now!" said Dale. "Want a lift?"
"No, sir," answered Andy, "I just wanted to take up a minute of your time. I'm sorry, Mr. Dale, I don't suppose you think any too much of me already, and when I tell you—"
"Hey? Ha! ha!" chuckled Dale. "Think I'm sore on you because of that calf business? Not at all, not at all. Why, I got double price for the critter, see?"
"There's something else," announced Andy seriously. "The truth is, Mr.
Dale, I burned down one of your haystacks about an hour ago."
"What! You burned one of my haystacks? Which one—which one?" demanded
Dale, growing pale with excitement.
"The little one to the north-east of the field," explained Andy. "I should think it held between two and three tons."