"Now, this can of pins and nails, Bobby," urged Mrs. Blake, helplessly. "What _possible_ good can they be? I do not see how I am to get your clothing into the trunk."
"Aw—Mother!" gasped Bobby. "Don’t throw them away. A fellow never can tell when he’ll want a pin—or a nail—or a button—or something. Never mind putting in so many stockings. Leave the can—do, Mother!"
All the Clinton boys who had been the chums’ particular associates at school were greatly interested in what they termed Bobby’s and Fred’s "luck." They all had to be told, over and over again, of the expected wonders of Rockledge School.
"And I bet you and Fred turn things upside down there," said "Scat" Monroe, with an envious sigh.
"I bet we don’t!" responded Bobby, quickly. "Dr. Raymond is awfully strict, they say. We’ll have to walk a chalk line."
"Well, if Fred Martin ever walks a chalk-line," scoffed another of the fellows, "it’ll be a mighty crooked one!"
However, the night before the boys were to start for Rockledge, the good natured groceryman gave his son a long talk, and Fred went to bed feeling pretty solemn. For the first time, he began to realize that he was not going away to boarding school merely for the fun there was to be got out of it!
"You haven’t made much of a mark for yourself in the Clinton Public School, Frederick," said Mr. Martin, sternly; "but I do not believe that is because you are either a dunce, or stubborn. You have been frittering away your opportunities.
"I am tired of seeing your name at the foot of your class roster—or near it. Inattention is your failing. You are going where they make boys attend. And if you do not work, and keep up with your mates, you will be sent home. Do you understand that?
"And if you are sent home, you shall be sent to another school where you’ll have very little fun at all for the rest of your life. I mean the School of Hard Experience!
"You shall be set to work in my store half of each day, like a poor man’s son, and go to the public school the other half day, and your name will be on the truant officer’s list."
"And I guess he meant it," said Fred to Bobby the next morning. "Father doesn’t often scold, but he was mad at me for being so low in my classes last term."