“Write your name in these, Boland, and be careful of them. We don’t allow the misuse of text-books here. Peters, do you think that you can tell Boland what the lessons for today are without unduly taxing your massive intellect?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Peters.
“Try it, then. Have you pencils and pens, Boland?”
“No, sir.”
“Come to the desk, then, and get what you need.”
Cal followed the instructor up to the platform, received an assortment of writing implements and returned to where Peters awaited him.
“Ain’t he great?” whispered Peters joyfully as he opened one of the new books and indicated the day’s lesson. “He’s more fun than a circus sometimes.”
“Don’t you—don’t you mind his talking like that?” whispered Cal incredulously.
“Mind it! Gee, no! He don’t mean anything. Jim’s a corker!”
A few minutes later a gong sounded and Cal followed the others to Room 1, where Mr. Spander, known as Charlie, taught French and German. There was no real work that morning and at twelve o’clock the noon gong released them. Cal returned to West House with Ned and Spud and found that his trunk had arrived.