“Jim Caven!” repeated Dick slowly, “What makes you believe that he is guilty?”

“From what Mr. Dickerson here says,” answered Tom, and repeated what the farmer had told him.

“Gracious, that does look black for Caven!” said Dick, when he had finished.  He turned to the farmer.  “Would you recognize that boy again if you saw him?”

“I allow as how I would.  His eyes was wot got me —­ never saw sech unsteady ones afore in my life.”

“Yes, those eyes put me down on Caven the minute I saw him,” answered Tom.  “More than half of the boys at the Hall have put him down as a first-class sneak, although we can’t exactly tell why.”

“See here,” said Dick.  “I think it would be best if Mr. Dickerson would drive back to the Hall with us and tell Captain Putnam of what he knows.”

“And see if he can identify Caven,” finished Sam.  “Are you willing to do that, Mr. Dickerson?”

“Well, to tell the truth, I’ve got some business to attend to now,” was the slow reply.

“I am sure Captain Putnam will pay you for your trouble,” went on Sam.  “If he won’t, we will.”

“You seem mighty anxious to bring this Caven to justice,” smiled the farmer.

“We are, for two reasons,” said Tom.  “The first is, because he isn’t the nice sort to have around, and the second is, because one of the men working at the school, a colored waiter, whom we all liked, has been suspected of this crime and had to run away to avoid arrest.”

“I see.  Well —­” The farmer mused for a moment.  “All right, I’ll go back with ye —­ and at once.”

The team was turned around as well as the narrow confines of the hilly road permitted, and soon the Rover boys were on their way back to Putnam Hall, a proceeding which pleased Tom in more ways than one, since he would not have now to put up at a strange resort to have his ankle and his wheel cared for.  They bowled along at a rapid gait, the horses having more speed in them than their appearance indicated.  They were just turning into the road leading to Putnam Hall grounds when Dick espied several cadets approaching, bound for the lake shore.

“Here come Caven, Willets, and several others!” he cried.  “Mr. Dickerson, do you recognize any of those boys?”

The farmer gave a searching glance, which lasted until the approaching cadets were beside the wagon.  Then he pointed his hand at Jim Caven.

“Thet’s the boy I seed over to Auburn, a-pawning thet watch an’ them studs,” he announced.  “He’s got his sodger uniform on, but I know him jest the same.”

Jim Caven looked at the farmer in astonishment.  Then when he heard Seth Dickerson’s words he fell back and his face grew deathly white.

“I —­ I don’t know you,” he stammered.

“I seed you over to Auburn, in a pawnshop,” repeated Dickerson.

“It —­ It isn’t true!” gasped Caven.  “I was never over to Auburn in my life.  Why should I go there to a pawnshop?”