Blank looks replaced those of pleasant anticipation on the faces of Ned, Bob and Jerry. Slowly they glanced at one another, then Ned burst out with:
“Say, Dad, that’s all wrong! Don’t be so hard on us. If we have to go to college the best one in the world for us will be Boxwood Hall, because we’ll have such a good friend in Professor Snodgrass.”
“And we won’t go off bug hunting with him--at least not very often,” said Jerry. “We won’t have time, nor will he. And you can see by his letter that he’s done with bugs. He’s making a collection of butterflies now.”
“That’s just as bad,” said Mrs. Hopkins, with a smile at her son. “Butterflies will lead you farther afield.”
“There won’t be many more butterflies this year,” Ned remarked. “Though I suppose there may be a few late ones up around Fordham that the professor will bag in his net. But, really, we won’t waste any time on them. Let us go to Boxwood Hall, and we’ll buckle down to hard study.”
“We can go in for athletics though; can’t we?” asked Bob. “They have a swell football eleven and a dandy baseball nine at Boxwood Hall.”
“Oh, we haven’t any objections to sports, if you don’t go in for them too heavily,” said Mr. Baker. “What do you say?” and he glanced at the department store proprietor and at Mrs. Hopkins. “Shall we let the boys have their way?”
“Let’s consider it farther,” suggested Mr. Slade. “We’ll write to--let me see--Dr. Anderson Cole is the college president,” he went on, referring to the catalogue. “We’ll write to him and see what sort of arrangements can be made.”
“We could start in with the fall term,” observed Jerry. “Boxwood doesn’t open as early as some of the other colleges.”
“I’ll write the letters,” offered the banker. “My stenographer isn’t overworked, and I will get her at them the first thing in the morning. And I guess that ends the conference, for the time being,” he concluded.
“Then may we go?” asked his son. “We are going out in the motor boat.”
“Yes, run along,” said Mrs. Hopkins. “Jerry, let Mr. Baker have the catalogue the professor sent. He’ll need to refer to it for his letters.”
A little later the three chums were hastening toward the house where their motor boat was kept.
“Say! won’t it be great if we can go to Boxwood?” exclaimed Bob.
