The boys of Elmwood Hall were used to doing things quickly, especially under Tom’s leadership. In a trice the cutter was righted, and the robes and the scattered possessions of Professor Skeel were picked up and put into it. Then while Morse, George and Bert remained to adjust the harness on the now quieted horse, Tom and Jack went to a farmhouse near the lake to borrow a spare pair of shafts. Tom knew the farmer, of whom he had often hired a team in the summer, and the man readily agreed not only to loan the shafts, but to adjust them to the cutter. He made a quick and neat job of it, and soon the horse was once more hitched to the righted vehicle. “There you are, Professor Skeel,” said Tom. “Not quite as good as before, but almost. You can keep on, and once more I wish to tell you how sorry I am that it happened.” “Um!” sneered Mr. Skeel. “You may not believe it,” Tom went on. “We did not see you coming until we had started the ball down hill, and then it was too late to stop it. We never thought anyone would cross the lake on the ice at this point, as no one ever does so.” “I had a right to, didn’t I?” demanded the irate professor. “A right, certainly,” agreed Tom. “But it is unusual. Teams go down on the lake about a mile farther on, and you would have been perfectly safe there.” “Humph! I guess I can cross this lake where I please! And the next time you roll a snowball on me, I’ll----” “I told you,” said Tom, and his voice was cuttingly cool, “that we did not roll the ball on you. It was unintentional, but if you persist in thinking we did it purposely, we can’t help that. Now, is there anything more we can do for you?” and he looked about the snow to make sure all the contents of the cutter had been picked up and returned to it. The professor did not answer, but busied himself getting into the vehicle, and taking the reins from Morse Denton. “You can send them spare shafts back any time,” said the farmer who had kindly loaned them. “We’ll pay for ’em if he doesn’t,” said Jack in a low voice, anxious to preserve peace. “It’s getting off cheap as it is,” he added. “That’s right,” agreed Bert. “I thought he’d raise no end of a row.” “So he would have--only for Tom. Tom closed him up in great shape, didn’t he?” “He sure did.” Without a word of thanks, Professor Skeel drove off over the ice. He never looked back, but the boys could hear him muttering angrily to himself, probably giving vent to threats he dared not utter aloud. “I wonder what he is doing in this neighborhood?” ventured Bert. “It’s certainly a puzzle,” admitted Tom Fairfield. “He’s up to no good, I’ll wager.” “That’s right,” agreed Jack. “Well, I’m glad he’s gone, anyhow. That sure was some upset!” “Say, did you notice his ear?” asked George. “It wasn’t that way when he was teaching school here. Looks as if a knife had cut him.” “Was his ear like that when he was shipwrecked with you, Tom?” asked Bert.