“They are the finest fellows in the world,” went on Mr. Slade, “and so is their chum, Jerry Hopkins. But, to tell you the truth, Andrew, I’m a bit worried about Ned.”
“And I am about Bob. Not that he’s done anything wrong, but he is getting too wild. I’m afraid they’ve been allowed too much freedom, what with their auto, their motor boat, and airship. I thought, at the time, it was good for them to go off by themselves, and learn to depend on their own efforts, as they certainly did many times. But now I’m beginning to think differently.”
“So am I,” admitted his friend. “Take that little incident last week—I was telling you about it, I guess—how they raced with some fellow on the road, and nearly collided with a hay wagon.”
“Yes, I heard about it. Well, boys will be boys, I suppose, but I’ve made up my mind that mine will have to settle down a little more.”
“The same here. But how can we do it?”
For a moment the two business men remained in thought. Then Mr. Slade said:
“I’ll tell you what we’d better do, Andrew. Let’s go and have a talk with Mrs. Hopkins. She’s one of the most capable, efficient and level-headed women I know. That’s one reason why I sold her some stock in my store. Her son Jerry is such a chum of our boys that I’ve no doubt she feels about as we do, for Jerry is into the same scrapes and fun that our boys get into. Let’s go and have a talk with Mrs. Hopkins.”
“I’m with you!” the banker exclaimed. “I’ll call her on the ’phone and see if it’s convenient for us to run out there.”
A few moments’ talk over the wire apprised Mrs. Hopkins of what was in the air, and she invited the two gentlemen to call.