“Thank you, sir,” said Laurie.
“Luncheon is served at one in West Hall,” continued the doctor. “That’s the dormitory behind you there. Beginning with supper to-night, you will take your meals in your own hall, but only a few of the students have arrived as yet, and so only one dining-room is open. I’m very glad to have met you, young gentlemen. Mr. Cummins will direct you to your room. Good morning.”
Five minutes later, the Turner twins set their suitcases down on the floor of Number 16 East Hall and looked about them. Number 16 was not palatial as to size, but it was big enough to hold comfortably the two single beds, the study-table, the two narrow chiffoniers, and the four chairs that made up its furnishing. There was a generous-sized closet at each side of the door, and two windows set close together between the beds. Under the windows was a wide seat, lacking only pillows to make it inviting. From the casements the boys looked over or through the topmost branches of the maples that lined Washington Street and followed Summit Street as it continued its ascent of the hill and presently leveled out between a thick wood on one side and an open field on the other.
“That must be the athletic field,” said Laurie. “See the stand there? And the goal-posts? How do you like it?”
“The field? Looks all right from here.”
“I mean the whole outfit, you simp; the school and Doctor Hillman and Miss Frosty-Face and everything.”
“Cut out calling names, Laurie. Miss Hillman’s all right. So’s the doctor. So’s the school. I like it. Wonder when our trunks will get here.”
“Half an hour ago you had a hunch you weren’t going to like it,” jeered Laurie. “Changed your mind, haven’t you?”
“Yes, and I’m going to change more than my mind.” Whereupon Ned opened his bag and selected a clean shirt. “What time is it?”
“What do you wear a watch for if you never look at it?” grumbled his brother. “It’s ten to one, Lazy. I’m going to find a place to wash up. I choose this side of the room, Ned.”