Finally, their previous work in their studies was found to be satisfactory, and, as Frank Watson informed his chums, the three chums were to enter the freshman class.
While the boys were busy with their examinations, their parents—the mothers especially—were busy preparing their sons’ outfits.
“It’s worse than when we went overland,” complained Ned, when he had been obliged to pass judgment on suits, caps, underwear and other wearing apparel—the outfit he was to take to college with him.
“Oh, well, it’ll soon be over,” was Jerry’s consoling suggestion.
“The worst of it is,” said Bob, “we may be all out of date with our clothes when we get to Boxwood and see what the fellows there are wearing. We may have to get a lot of new things.”
“Nothing more than a cap or two, I guess,” Jerry said. “We’ll wait about them until we get there, and find out what kind the fellows are sporting. We’ll wear our auto caps until then.”
“Auto caps!” cried Bob. “They won’t look good in the train.”
“Who said anything about a train?” asked Jerry.
“Why, aren’t we going to Fordham by train?”