us," declared Phil. "I guess we had better report to Doctor Clay, or Mr. Dale," he went on, significantly.
"You can report to me," answered Job Haskers, with increased severity. "There is no need to bother the doctor, and Mr. Dale has gone away for over Sunday."
"Well, boys, back again!" cried a cheery voice from an upper landing, and then Doctor Clay came down, wearing his gown and slippers. "A wild storm to be out in. I am glad you got back safely."
"They are late—and you said you gave them no permission to be out after hours," said Job Haskers, tartly.
"Hum! Did I?" mused the kindly head of the school. "Well, when it storms like this it, of course, makes some difference."
"We would have been back in time only we were robbed of our skates and some other things," answered Dave. "We had to walk a long distance through the storm, and we'd not be here yet if we hadn't managed to hire a farmer to bring us in his sleigh,"
"Robbed!" echoed Doctor Clay, catching at the word. "How was that?" And he listened with keen interest to what the boys had to tell. Even Job Haskers became curious, and said no more about penalizing them for being late.
