ums stood in the
farmer's yard, waiting for they scarcely knew what. Their reception
had been anything but cordial, and, considering that they were unaware
that they had done any damage to the field of corn, it was almost
unwarranted.

"Well, what do you know about this?" asked Bert, as he took off his cap
and dashed the rain drops from it.

"I don't know much," replied Jack, dubiously as he turned the collar of
his coat closer up around his neck.

"He's a cheerful chap--not," murmured George.

"He might at least treat us decently," said Tom, and there was a note
of defiance in his voice. "If we've damaged his corn I'm willing to
pay for it, but he might at least direct us to the road."

"That's right," chimed in Jack. "What's he doing now?"

"Getting a lantern, from the looks of things," replied Bert. The
farmer had gone to the barn and in a few moments he returned carrying a
light that swung to and fro, casting queer fantastic shadows on the
rain-soaked ground.

"Now I'll see what sort of damage ye done t' my corn!" grumbled the
man. "I don't see what right a passel of youngsters have t' tramp
through a man's field for, anyhow?"

"We got lost, I told you!" exclaimed Tom, a bit provoked. "We didn't
do it on purpose. If we've done any damage we're responsible for it."

"Yes, I know what that means!" sneered the man. By this time he was at
the fence over which the boys had leaped into his yard, and, swinging
the lantern about, he endeavored to see how much damage had been done
to his corn.

"Tromped down! A whole passel of ye tromped it down!" he muttered. "I
thought so, an' that's my best field, too! I've a notion t' have ye
arrested fer trespass."

"Oh, be sensible," ripped out Tom, who was fast losing his temper, a
thing that seldom occurred to him. "Tell us what the damage is, and
I'll settle. And then tell us how we can get on the river road, and
back to Elmwood Hall."

"Huh! A nice lot of school boys you are!" sneered the, man. "Th' fust
thing they ought t' teach ye is manners! Spilin' a man's corn!"

"Can't you say what the damage is?" put in Jack.

"No, I can't--not until mornin', anyhow."

"Then tell us how to get on the right road, and you can send your bill
to Elmwood Hall. Fairfield is my name--Tom Fairfield," cried our hero.

"Oh, I'll send you the bill all right," snapped the farmer. "I'll
attend to that, and ye'll pay th' last cent due, too, let me tell you
that!"