“Now boys,” said Mr. Slade, who, with Mr. Baker, had come to the home of Mrs. Hopkins to see the three off, “remember that you are not going to college for fun.”
“But we can have a little; can’t we, Dad?” asked Ned.
“Yes, of course. I want you all to have a good time within reason. But you must all buckle down to hard work too. As we said before, you’ve had more than your share of strenuous adventures. Leave some for the other fellows. You must prepare to take your places as men in the world soon, and a good education is the best preparation.”
“I agree with what Mr. Slade says,” added the banker. “We don’t want to be too preachy, but, boys, dig in hard now, and let us all be proud of you.”
“I’m sure we shall be,” said Mrs. Hopkins, and there was a smile on her face, though she found it rather hard to let Jerry go for such a long time. Still he was used to being away from home, and his mother knew he could take care of himself, as could his chums.
Good-byes echoed and re-echoed as Jerry started the motor and, throwing in the gears, let the clutch slip into place. Hands were waved, and then our three heroes swung down the road on their way to college. It was a momentous occasion for them.
“Good-bye, fellows—wish I were going—don’t forget to write—send me tickets—football game—maybe I can come—it’ll be great—hope you play and win every game—good-bye!”
It was Andy Rush, of course, and the little chap ran alongside the automobile for a few feet as he delivered his rapid-fire remarks.
“I wonder what will happen to him when he goes to college,” mused Bob.
“He’ll have to dictate his recitations into a phonograph,” said Jerry, “and when the prof wants to listen he’ll have to run it at half speed, or he wouldn’t catch a word.”