thought Tom, and thanked the farmer for his offer.
When they got back to the farmhouse Tom's story had to be told to Grace and Nellie, while Mrs. Laning went off to prepare a room for the youth.
"Oh, Josiah Crabtree!" cried Nellie. "Why, don't you know he is trying to court our Aunt Lucy?"
"Your Aunt Lucy? Who is she?"
"Dora Stanhope's mother. Dora's father is dead, you know."
"Great Cæsar!" burst from Tom; "I hope Dora never gets him for a stepfather!"
"So do all of us, Tom; but I'm afraid he has made quite an impression on Aunt Lucy. She is rich; and my own idea is that Josiah Crabtree is after her money."
"He's none too good for it," was Tom's blunt comment.
The girls and the lad chatted together for half an hour, and then all retired for the balance of the night.
"They're awfully sweet," thought the boy — "these two, and Dora too."
He slept soundly, and did not arise until after seven. On coming below he found a hot breakfast awaiting him, to which it is perhaps needless to state he did full justice.
While he was talking to the girls, and finishing up at the same time, Mr. Laning came in.
"Thought I would tell you that Captain Putnam just drove down the Hall road on his way to the school," he announced.
"Then I'll get back at once," said Tom, and bade the various members of the family good-by. "Hope we meet again soon," he whispered to the girls, and this made both blush.
Mr. Laning would have driven the lad to the academy, but Tom declined the offer and set off on foot. It did not take him long to cover the distance, and he entered the grounds as unconcernedly as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
"Hullo!" cried several cadets as they noticed him. "Where did you come from? Mr. Crabtree has been looking all over for you."
"I don't wish to see him. I wish to see Captain Putnam? Where is he?"
"Gracious, but you're a cool one!" remarked one of the cadets. "The captain is in his office, I think."
"Will you please show me to the place?"
"Certainly."
The office was a finely furnished apartment just off the main classroom. Tom knocked on the door.
"Come in," said a cheery voice, and the boy entered to find himself confronted not only by Captain Putnam, but likewise by Josiah Crabtree.
"Ha! here is the young reprobate now!" cried Crabtree, as, rushing up, he grasped Tom by the arm.
"You will kindly let go of my arm, Mr. Crabtree," said Tom steadily.
"You shan't run away again!"
"That's true — now Captain Putnam is here."
"So this is Thomas Rover," said Captain Victor Putnam, with something like a twinkle in his clear eyes. "Rover, I have heard a rather serious report about you and your brother Richard."
"What kind of a report, if I may ask, sir?"
"Mr. Crabtree says you have been impudent to him, and that when he locked you in the guardroom for breaking the rules you attacked him and knocked him down."
"He attacked me first. If anybody attacked you, wouldn't you be apt to knock him down — if you could?"
"That would depend upon circumstances, Rover. If a man attacked me on the street I would certainly endeavor to defend myself to the best of my ability. But you must remember that you are a pupil here, and Mr. Crabtree is one of your masters, appointed by me."
"I am not a pupil yet, sir — although I hope to be very soon."
"Why, what do you mean? " demanded Victor Putnam, and now his voice grew stern. Many a boy would have flinched, but Tom had determined to say just what he thought of Crabtree, and he stood his ground.
"I mean just this, Captain Putnam. I came to Putnam Hall with the best intention in the world of doing my duty as a pupil and becoming a credit to your institution. I hadn't a thought of breaking a rule or being impudent. Before I entered your grounds I thought of a big fire-cracker I had in my pocket, and just for the fun of the thing set the cracker off, as a sort of farewell to the outdoor life so soon to be left behind."
"Captain Putnam, are you going to listen to such tomfoolery?" interrupted Josiah Crabtree.
"I believe I have a right to tell my story," answered Tom. "Unless that right is granted, I shall leave the Hall, go back to my guardian, and tell him that I refuse to become a pupil here."
"You are a pupil already," snarled Crabtree.
"I am not — and that is just the point I am trying to make," went on Tom to the owner of Putnam Hall. "As soon as the firecracker went off, this man rushed up and demanded an explanation. He was going to lock up my brother first, but I said I had fired the cracker, and so he compelled me to go to the guardroom with him. I was locked in and treated to bread and milk for supper, and he wanted to steal the keys of my trunk and valise from me."
"Steal!" ejaculated Josiah Crabtree.
"That is what it amounted to, for the keys and boxes are my property."
"Mr. Crabtree merely wanted to see that your baggage contained nothing improper," put in Captain Putnam. "There are certain things we do not allow boys to bring into the institution."
"Then he had a right to keep my baggage out until I was properly enrolled as a pupil. I did not bring in the trunk and bag myself."
At this Captain Putnam began to smile.
"I see the point you are trying to make, Rover. You are trying to prove that you were placed under arrest, so to speak, before you were under our authority here."
"Exactly. I will leave it to you, Captain Putnam, if I was really a pupil when Mr. Crabtree hauled me off to the guardroom?"
At this plain question the face of the owner of the Hall became a study.
"You make a very fine distinction, Rover," he answered slowly.
"Perhaps so, sir; and I do it because I want to begin right here. If I am to be handicapped at the start of my career, what is the use of my trying to make a record for myself?" and Tom looked the master of Putnam Hall full in the face.
Without a word Captain Putnam held out his hand. "Thomas, you have considerable spirit, but I think your heart is in the right place, and I am willing to try you. Supposing you enroll as a pupil now, and we let bygones be bygones?"
"With all my heart, sir!" cried Tom, glad to have the whole affair settled so easily.
"Why, are you going to let the — the young rascal go?" demanded Josiah Crabtree, in amazement.
"I'm not a rascal, Mr. Crabtree."
"Yes, you are!"
