“Did he?” asked Sam, and there was a trace of a smile on his face.  “Well, you can’t always trust farm hands,” and he nudged Nick in the ribs, though George did not see it.

Two days later Doctor Meredith called Tom to his office.

“There has been a complaint made against you,” said the school head.  “Trampling down the corn of one—­er—­Jed Appleby——­” went on Doctor Meredith, reading from a memoranda.  “He says you agreed to pay for it, and his bill is—­ten dollars!”

“What!” cried Tom.  “We didn’t do half that damage!  But I’m willing to pay.”

“And after this, please be careful not to annoy the farmers hereabout,” warned the head of the school.  “We have to guard against the students doing that.”

“I’ll be careful,” promised Tom grimly.  “Ten dollars!  Whew!” he exclaimed, as he took the bill and went out.  “If he got a dollar he’d be getting more than the corn we trampled was worth.  But I’ll not dispute it.  Only I’ll get square with him,” he boasted to his chums.

On going to pay the amount assessed against him, Tom found that the possessions of Mr. Appleby extended to within a short distance of the school grounds.  At least one of the farmer’s hay fields did, being connected to a main road by a long lane.

“And if he’d been decent,” mused Tom, on his way back, after settling the score, “he could have shown us the way through his hay field, and we might have gotten into the Hall on time.  The old grouch!”

He cut through the lot, passing a big pile of hay that was stacked and thatched for winter.

“Well, did you fix him up?” asked Jack, as his chum entered the room on his return.

“I did—­worse luck to him.  Some day we’ll have to have the white-caps visit him, or treat him to a coat of tar and feathers.  It isn’t the ten dollars that I mind so much as it is being gouged by a farmer.  I’ll get square though!”

It was several nights after this that Tom, gathering up some packages from his dresser, slipped on his coat and cap.

“Where you going?” asked Jack, yawning and tossing aside a book he had been pretending to study.

“Oh, just out for a walk,” replied Tom, evasively.

“Want any company?”

“I’ll be right back,” was the remark, which would seem to indicate that company was not desired.

“All right.  Bring me back some peanuts if you go past Pop’s place,” and Jack tossed over a dime.

Tom’s chums were in bed when he returned, and without awakening them, as he supposed, he undressed in the dark and tumbled into his cot.

“That you, Tom?” murmured Jack sleepily.

“Yes.”

“What smells so queer?  Have you been smoking?”

“No, but I came home in a trolley and there were some fellows in it hitting the pipe.”

“Oh, I thought it couldn’t be you,” for neither Tom nor his chums used the weed.