“Oh, it’s true, that is—I—I guess it’s true. Early in the spring I took a special examination that the school puts out, never thinking that I’d win in it. There was a chance for three winners, and, well, I’m one of them!”
They congratulated him heartily. “How many were entered in the competition?” asked Jim.
“A hundred or more, I’m told. I don’t know just how many,” replied the dazed Terry.
“Where did you come in?” Don asked.
“I don’t remember,” Terry said. Don looked at him sternly.
“Come on now, Chucklehead. Was it first?”
“Yes,” confessed Terry. “It was.”
“I’m very glad to hear that,” nodded Mr. Mercer. “That means you can go without worrying over it in the least. You won’t be a drag on your family or in any way inconvenience them.” He turned to his boys. “Where are you fellows going to school?”
“We don’t know,” said Don. He turned to Terry. “What is this Woodcrest School like?”
“Well, it’s a high class military school, located at Portville, New York, on Lake Blair,” said Terry. “They have a four-year course, and I hear that there are about three hundred students there. All phases of active military life are offered to teach the importance of honor, obeying orders, and mature thinking. Outside of that I don’t know anything about it, but it sounds pretty good to me.”