"Wot yeou fellers doin' here?" he demanded.

"Come here with the light--one of our party has fallen into the
cistern!" cried Dave.

"Into the cistern, eh? Mebbe it serves him right. Ain't got no business
in my barn," answered the farmer, as he came closer.

"We ran in because your dogs came after us," explained Roger.

"An' where did yeou come from? Ye don't belong around here, I know."

"We came from the train--it's off the track," said Dave. "But help us
get this boy out first and then we'll explain."

"Train off the track? Well, I snum!" cried the farmer. Then he set down
the lantern and aided in bringing Nat Poole to the flooring of the barn.
"Putty cold, I'll bet a quart o' shellbarks," he added, grinning at the
lad's wet and shivering figure.

"Can't we get him into the house by the fire?" asked Ben. "We'll pay you
for your trouble."

Now if there was one thing Shadrach Mellick loved, it was money, and at
the mention of pay he was all attention. He asked a few questions, and
then led the way out of the barn and towards his house. The dogs wanted
to follow, but he drove them back.

"Their bark is worse nor their bite," he explained. "They wouldn't hurt
yeou very much." Then he asked about the train, and the students gave
him the particulars of the mishap. In the meantime Mrs. Mellick bustled
around and got Nat Poole some dry clothing and allowed him to change his
garments in a side room that chanced to be warm.

The boys soon learned that Shadrach Mellick owned a sleigh large enough
to accommodate the entire party, and also four good, strong horses. For
ten dollars he agreed to take them to Oak Hall, stopping at Oakdale on
the way, to see if the school sleigh was waiting for them.

"The sooner we start the better," said Dave. And then he added in a
whisper to Roger and Phil: "If we don't, some other passengers from the
train may come up here and offer him more money for his turnout."

"Let us pay him part and bind the bargain," suggested the senator's son.

"I'll do it," answered Dave, and gave Shadrach Mellick two dollars.

"Good enough--thet binds the bargain," said the close-fisted farmer.

Nat Poole was a sight to behold in a well-worn suit several sizes too
big for him, and the boys could not help but laugh when he made his
appearance.

"That's a real swagger suit, Nat!" cried Sam Day. "Won't you give me
the address of your tailor?"

"Nat can't do that," added Ben. "He wants the artist all