“Evidently not,” said the man, dryly. “You had better be careful what you do with a gun.” “I am careful,” answered Jack, a trifle nettled at the words and manner of Mr. Skeel. “I wasn’t going to fire until I saw you.” “Oh,” said Mr. Skeel. “I--I didn’t mean just that,” Jack went on. “I meant I was going to see what it was before I shot.” That was decidedly the better way of putting it. “You--you are quite a ways from--from Elmwood Hall,” said Tom, changing from his first intention of saying “home,” for he recollected he did not know where Professor Skeel lived. “Yes, I am up here on--business,” went on the unpopular man. “And I trust there aren’t any hills where you can roll down big snowballs,” he added significantly. “You seem to forget that was an accident,” Tom said. He did not altogether like Professor Skeel’s tone. “Well, I don’t want any accidents like that to happen up here,” went on the former teacher. “And now another matter. Are you boys following me? If you are, I warn you that I will not tolerate it. You must leave me alone. I have business to do up here, and----” “We most decidedly are _not_ following you!” exclaimed Tom, with emphasis. “Besides, we are on private grounds, the use of which we were granted for this holiday season, and----” “Is that a polite request for me to--get off?” asked Mr. Skeel. “Well, no, not exactly,” Tom answered. “We are not the owners, but we have the privilege of hunting here. It is possible that the caretaker may order you off. But you have no right to say that we are following you. We have a right here.” “I didn’t _say_ you were--I only _asked_ if you were,” said Mr. Skeel, who seemed to “come down off his high horse a bit,” as Jack said afterward. “Then I’ll say that you are entirely mistaken,” went on Tom. “We were out hunting, and we came upon you unexpectedly. We were as much surprised as you were, though we guessed you were in the neighborhood.” “You did?” cried Professor Skeel, with sudden energy. He seemed both startled and angry. “Who told you?” he demanded. “Sam Wilson, the man who drove you over from the depot to Hounson’s place,” replied Tom, who had no reason for concealment, and who also wanted to show that he knew the whereabouts of Mr. Skeel. “I never told him my name!” declared the former instructor. Tom did not care to state that they had guessed the identity of the man by the description of his injured ear. The member was in plain sight as Tom looked--a ragged, torn lobe, of angry-red color, and it did look, as Sam had said, as though it had been “chawed by some critter.”