Old Martha was “dead sot,” as she put it, against the whole plan.
“Ain’ no good goin’ to kum uv it,” she grumbled to herself, as she jammed her hands viciously into the dough. “House’ll seem like a graveyard wen dose po’ boys get shunted off ter dat ole bo’din’ school. Like enuf dey won’t giv’ um half enuf ter eat. An’ all on ’count uv dat ole w’ited sepulker,” she wound up disgustedly.
But Uncle Aaron, wholly indifferent to Martha’s views even if he had known them, was in high feather. He had carried his point, and, in the satisfaction this gave him, he became almost good-natured. He could even allow himself a wintry smile at times, as he reflected that the boys–the “pests,” as he called them to himself–were to get a taste of the discipline that their souls needed.
“He’ll show them what’s what,” he chuckled. “He’ll either bend ’em or break ’em. I know Hardach Rally.”
As for Fred and Teddy themselves, they hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry.
They loved their home and their parents, and then, too, they hated to leave their boy friends with whom they had grown up in the home town.
But, on the other hand, there was the attraction of new sights and places and all the adventures that might come to them. It was another world into which they were going, and it was not in boy nature that they should not be thrilled by the prospect of “fresh fields and pastures new.”
But before the time came for their departure, Oldtown had a sensation that turned it topsy-turvy.
The village store was robbed!
The first thing the boys knew about it was when they heard a whistle under their windows that they recognized as that of Jack Youmans. They stuck sleepy heads out to see what had brought him there at that early hour.