"Humph!" said Mr. Lloyd. "I must say I don't like that, but at the worst I suppose you can survive it, just as the others have done. Is there any other reason why you wouldn't like to go to Dr. Johnston's?"

"Well, father, you know he has a dreadful strap, most a yard long, and he gives the boys dreadful whippings with it."

"Suppose he has, Bert; does he whip the boys who know their lessons, and behave properly in school?" asked Mr. Lloyd, with a quizzical glance at his son.

Bert laughed. "Of course not, father," said he. "He only whips the bad boys."

"Then why should his long strap be an objection, Bert? You don't propose to be one of the bad boys, do you?"

"Of course not, father; but I might get a whipping, all the same."

"We'll hope not, Bert; we'll hope not. And now, look here. Would you like it any better going to Dr. Johnston's if Frank were to go with you?"

"Oh, yes indeed, father," exclaimed Bert, his face lighting up. "If Frank goes too, I won't mind it."

"All right then, Bert; I am glad to say that Frank is going, too. I went to see his father to-day, and he agreed to let him go, so I suppose we may consider the matter settled, and next Monday you two boys will go with me to the school." And Mr. Lloyd, evidently well-pleased at having reconciled Bert to the idea of the new school, took up his paper, while Bert went over to his mother's side to have a talk with her about it.

Mrs. Lloyd felt all a mother's anxiety regarding this new phase of life upon which her boy was about to enter. Dr. Johnston's was the largest and most renowned school in the city. It was also in a certain sense the most aristocratic. Its master charged high rates, which only well-to-do people could afford, and as a consequence the sons of the wealthiest citizens attended his school. Because of this, it was what would be called select; and just in that very fact lay one of the dangers Mrs. Lloyd most dreaded. Rich men's sons may be select from a social point of view, but they are apt to be quite the reverse from the moral standpoint. Frank Bowser, with all his clumsiness and lack of good manners, would be a far safer companion than Dick Wilding, the graceful, easy-mannered heir of the prosperous bank president.