"Yes, we've heard it was all right," said Tom. "By the way, where is
Hope Seminary?"
"About two miles this side of Brill."
"Then we'll pass it, eh?" came from Sam.
"Well, not exactly. It's up a bit on a side road. But you can see the buildings—very nice, too—although not so big as those up to Brill. I'll point 'em out to you when we get there."
"Do you know any of the fellows at Brill?" questioned Tom, nudging Sam in the ribs as he spoke.
"A few. Minnie met some of 'em at the baseball and football games, and once in a while one of 'em stops at our house. But we are most too far away to see much of 'em."
Presently the carriage passed through a small village which the boys were told was called Rushville.
"I don't know why they call it that," said Mr. Sanderson with a chuckle. "Ain't no rushes growing around here, and there ain't no rush either; it's as dead as a salted mackerel," and he chuckled again. "But there's one thing here worth knowing about," he added suddenly.
"What's that?" asked Dick.
"The Jamison place—it's haunted."