“Did they do that?” asked Jerry eagerly.
“I—I believe they did,” admitted the scientist.
“Better and better!” murmured Ned. “I can see we are going to like it here. There are some live ones.”
“There’s one thing about it,” observed Bob in a low voice to his chums, after the meal, while the professor had gone to put on a dry pair of shoes, “she sure is some cook!”
“Who?” asked Jerry.
“The professor’s housekeeper, Mrs. Gilcuddy. I hope he invites us over often, in case we don’t find the commons good.”
“Oh, I guess the college food will be all right,” said Ned.
At Boxwood Hall, as at other colleges, some of the students ate in “commons,” or in the college dining rooms, the expense being added to their tuition bills. Others preferred to board in private families, while some formed “eating clubs.” Our friends had decided, for the time being at least, to dine at the college table.
“Now, if you’ll come with me,” the professor said as he came down stairs, “I’ll take you over to the proctor, Mr. Thornton, and introduce you, so that you may register and be shown to your rooms. Are you ready?”