“And I,” added the banker.
“So we have called you in to acquaint you with our decision,” the department store proprietor went on. “And I want to say that we did not arrive at it hastily. We have had several conferences on the matter, as we wanted to be fair and just to all of you, and we wanted to do our duty. Now perhaps you have something to say, Mr. Baker, before we tell the boys what is in store for them.”
“Looks serious,” Jerry formed the words with his lips to Ned, but did not emit a whisper.
Ned nodded gloomily.
“Well, Aaron, you’ve said about all there is to say on the subject,” began the banker slowly. “I might add that I think our boys have had plenty of good times and strenuous adventures. There can be no complaint on their part about that. And, boys, I want to say that you must now settle down and prepare to make real men of yourselves. You are boys no longer—you must prepare to accept the responsibilities of life. Have you anything to add, Mrs. Hopkins?”
“Nothing except that I fully agree with you gentlemen. And I think what we are about to do will be for the best interests of all of us, especially of our boys. We are proud of them in spite of the fact that they are sometimes a little too careless, and we want to continue to be proud of you, boys. Tell them what we have decided to do, Mr. Slade.”
“It is this,” said the department store keeper, as he removed the newspaper from the pile of books, or rather, pamphlets. “We are going to send you boys to some college or military academy, where, under stricter discipline than any to which you have hitherto been subjected, you will be able to develop your characters.”
“Sent away to college!” exclaimed Jerry.
“Military academy!” echoed Bob.
“Strict discipline!” murmured Ned.