GOOD NEWS
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.”
“We’ll see about it,” said his mother.
“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.
“The finest thing ever!” declared Jerry. “It will do us good to see the
professor again.”
“So that’s what all this confabbing business on the part of our
respected parents was about,” commented Ned. “I hadn’t any idea it
would turn out this way.”
“Nor I,” admitted Jerry. “I thought something was in the wind along the
line of making us settle down, but I was afraid mother might be going
to make me go to work. Not that I would mind work,” he made haste to
add, “but I’m not quite ready for it.”
“I thought maybe they were going to take the car, the boat and the
airship away from us,” observed Bob, for our heroes, as their friends
who have read about them in previous books know, did have a fine
airship, in which they had gone through many adventures.
“That would be a hardship,” said Jerry. “But going to college isn’t
half bad. I’m glad they decided on it. I guess a little discipline and
settling down will be good for all of us. It’s a lucky thing Professor
Snodgrass sent me that catalogue. If I hadn’t had that to spring on ’em
they might have packed us off to some place where we wouldn’t have a
friend to our names.”
“They may yet,” suggested Bob half gloomily. “They may decide against
Boxwood Hall.”
“I don’t believe so,” remarked Jerry. “I sort of think they’re
favorably disposed toward it, for it is a first-class place. And
say! why, we can take our motor boat there!” he cried. “There’s Lake
Carmona--a dandy place for a boat.”
“But it will soon be winter,” objected Ned, “and the lake will freeze
over.”
“That’s all right,” declared Jerry. “It will be some time before
freezing weather sets in, and there’ll be lots of time to take trips
on the lake. We’ll have to store the boat over winter, of course, but
she’ll be there in the spring. We’ll take the _Neboje_ with us.”
The _Neboje_ (the name being made up of the first two letters of Ned,
Bob and Jerry) was a new craft. It was smaller than the last boat the
boys had bought, and they often preferred it, as it was easier to
handle. It was so arranged that they could sleep and cook on board, and
make short cruises on lake or river.
“Sure, take the boat!” exclaimed Bob. “And why can’t we take the auto
too?”
“We could, I guess,” conceded Jerry. “The only thing is, though, that
the fellows at Boxwood may think we’re putting it on rather thick.”
“I guess not,” said Ned. “If we took our airship they might. But some
of them are sure to have cars themselves, and with the lake so near it
would be a wonder if there wasn’t one or two motor boats owned by the
students. We’ll take her along.”
“That is, if we go,” observed Jerry with a smile.
“Oh, we’ll go!” declared Bob, as they reached the boathouse.
“Got enough gasoline?” asked Jerry, as he took the tarpaulin cover off
the _Neboje_.
“Plenty,” announced Bob, looking at the gauge. “We’ll only go for a
little run, as I want to get back in time for----”
“Grub!” broke in Ned with a laugh, and then he had to dodge the bailing
sponge which the stout youth threw at his head.
Ned caught the sponge and threw it back at Bob, but with such poor aim
that it struck Jerry in the face, and, being wet, it was not the most
desirable object in the world to receive in that fashion.
“Here! What are you doing?” roared Jerry, wiping his dripping face.
“I’ve had my bath this week. Cut out the rough stuff!”
“I didn’t mean that,” came from Ned. “It was Bob’s fault.”
“It was not! You threw it!”
“You chucked it first.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t ragged me about my eating. And I
wasn’t going to say anything about grub, either. I meant I wanted to
get home early so I could talk more to dad about Boxwood Hall.”
“Go on! You’re going to see a girl!” scoffed Jerry.
Bob flared up again, but quiet was finally restored and, the boathouse
doors having been thrown open, Ned pressed the button of the
self-starter and the _Neboje_ swung out into the river which ran near
the Hopkins’ house.
As the chums, comfortably seated in their craft, were getting under
way, they heard a hail.
“Hold on, boys--wait a minute--got something to tell you--don’t go away
without me--it’s great news--come on back--slow down--turn off the
gasoline--shut off the spark--swing her around--whoop!”
“No need to look to tell who that is,” Jerry remarked.
“Yes, it’s Andy Rush,” said Bob, as he glanced at a small and very much
excited boy who was dancing about on the dock.
“Come back and get me!” he begged.
“Shall we?” asked Ned, who was steering.
“Oh, yes, I guess so,” assented Jerry. “Andy’s all right if he does
talk like a gasoline motor.”
“I wonder what news he has,” ventured Bob.
Ned swung the boat about, and Andy, whom my older readers will
remember, got aboard. He was panting from his rapid-fire talk.
“What’s the news?” asked Bob.
“It’s about Noddy Nixon,” said Andy Rush, when he had gotten back his
breath.
“Then it isn’t good news,” averred Jerry, for in the past Noddy had
made much trouble for the three chums.
“No, it isn’t good news,” said Andy. “He’s hurt somewhere out West. He
ran his automobile into another one, and now he’s in a hospital.”
“Well, I don’t wish Noddy any bad luck, for all he did us several mean
turns,” remarked Jerry. “But he never did know how to handle a car--he
was too reckless. Is he badly hurt, Andy?”
“Well, he won’t die, but it will be a good while before he’ll be well.
A friend of my mother’s, who lives out West, wrote her about Noddy,
knowing he used to live here.”
“I hope he never comes back here to live,” Ned remarked. “We can easily
get along without him.”
“So say we all of us!” chimed in Bob.
The boys enjoyed the little motor boat trip, though Andy Rush, as
usual, talked so much and so fast that Jerry said he gave him a
headache.
“Here, earn your passage,” the tall youth finally cried. “Polish
some of the brass rail. That will give you a safety-valve,” and Andy,
perforce, had to obey.
It was several days after this that Bob Baker came hurrying over to the
Hopkins house.
“Good news!” cried the stout youth.
“What about?” asked Jerry.
“Dad has had a letter from President Cole, of Boxwood Hall, and
everything is so satisfactory that dad has decided I am to go there.
Hurrah!”
“Hurrah yourself!” retorted Jerry. “What about Ned and me?”
“It’s all right. I just left Ned, and his father says if Mr. Baker is
satisfied he’ll be, so Ned can go. It rests with your mother whether
you can, Jerry.”
“Oh, I’m sure mother will say yes! I’ll tell her! Say! this is
great--all three of us to go to Boxwood Hall! Wow!” and Jerry did a
clog dance that brought his mother to the door of her room to learn the
cause of the excitement.
She readily gave her consent to the Boxwood Hall project for Jerry, and
later that day there was another conference of the parents. There had
been considerable correspondence between Mr. Baker and President Cole,
and the banker was more than satisfied with the showing made by the
college.
“I think it will be just the place for the boys,” he declared, “and I
will write to President Cole, informing him they will be on hand soon
after, if not at, the opening of the fall term. We shall have to get
them ready, I suppose.”
“That won’t take long,” Jerry said. “Now I’ll write to Professor
Snodgrass, and tell him we’ll soon be with him.”
Thus the matter was decided. The names of Ned, Bob and Jerry were
formally entered for admission to Boxwood Hall, and their standing in
their studies was such that they had to take but few examinations.
In the letter to Professor Snodgrass Jerry explained how it had all
come about, and he thanked the little scientist for having sent the
catalogue.
“Only for that,” Jerry wrote, “we might have been packed off to some
place where we wouldn’t have liked it at all. I’m afraid we won’t get a
chance to go hunting butterflies with you, much as we would like it.”
In reply Jerry had another letter from the bug-collector. Professor
Snodgrass wrote that there would be plenty of chance for him to have
outings with the boys.
“That’s fine!” cried Jerry. “Hurrah for Boxwood Hall!”
And his chums echoed the exultant cry.