Carruthers glanced sternly at him.
“Desire to purchase or obtain by gift a sound, kind, and well-broken child, of about one year, light-colored preferred, with good wind and good eyes, and, if possible, no vices.”
“Send that to a horse exchange,” advised Jack Duncan.
“Tommy-rot!” said Carruthers politely, and went on.
“We would like to have such child sent to us for a week on approval, and guarantee to treat it with perfect kindness and hygiene. As reference for the integrity and spotlessness of our characters we are happy to name—”
“Who the deuce are we happy to name?” inquired Carruthers despondently. “That queers it.”
There was deep thought. “Here’s a name,” suggested Duncan. “It sounds like those two nice old ladies, the Misses Bellingham, who live down near Highland Falls. Just sign it their name and give the chaplain for reference.”
“The chaplain!” The boys gasped.
“Just the thing,” said Duncan confidently. “He’ll give them a rattling recommend, and he’s too much of a gentleman to tell them their characters are questioned. Besides, he’ll never think of it again after he mails the letter. I know the chaplain. He’s a good sort—he doesn’t fuss.”
“Proceed!” ordered the chorus.