“Yes. It’s the only means by which I can have any peace. I know you don’t mean any harm, but I never know what is going to happen next. I have arranged for you to go away to boarding school—the Westfield Academy, as you know. The term does not open in two weeks, but I can’t stand this any longer. Mrs. Murdock, help the boys to pack up. I’m going to send them to school at once, and have them out of the way. I have been thinking of this, and I wrote to Dr. Burton, president of Westfield, asking if they could come. He said they might, so get ready to go, boys.” Mr. Smith tried to speak severely, but there was a half smile on his lips. The boys said nothing for a few seconds. Then Cap softly cried: “Hurrah for Westfield!” “I’m afraid I haven’t quite made the punishment fit the crime,” said Mr. Smith softly, as he turned away. “But off you go, boys. You’ll start to-morrow, and I hope you will like it. You may be a bit lonesome at first, but it will give you a chance to get acquainted with the school and grounds before the other students arrive. Now I’ll have a little quietness,” and Mr. Smith went to his library, while the boys executed a noiseless war dance. “Oh, those boys! Those boys!” exclaimed the housekeeper throwing up her hands hopelessly. How they managed to get ready on such short notice the brothers hardly knew, but they accomplished it, and the next afternoon, having bidden their friends good-bye, they took the train for Westfield Academy, an institution of learning about one hundred miles away. “Now remember,” called Mr. Smith after them, “no more practical jokes.” “That’s right,” promised Cap. “We’re going to play baseball as soon as the spring season opens.” CHAPTER VI A LIVELY HAZING “Wow! But this is a lonesome place!” exclaimed Cap Smith, as he and his brothers were set down by the depot stage in front of the gates of Westfield Academy. “And we’ve got it all to ourselves for two weeks,” added Pete. “I wonder how we can stand it?” “Got to,” declared Bill grimly. “Say, they’ve got a beaut diamond,” and he motioned toward the baseball field. “Nothing doing in that line until spring,” commented Cap. “Football has the call now, but I don’t s’pose we’ll get a look in at that. Well, come on,” and he went through the massive bronze gates. “Where you going?” demanded Bill. “Up to see Prexy. Dad gave me a letter for Dr. Burton, the president, and we want to pay our respects, and find out where we’re going to sleep to-night. I don’t exactly feel like camping out on the grass.” “Me either,” came from Pete. “Say, as soon as we can get into some old togs can’t we get up a game. Maybe there are some fellows sent on here early, like us, and we can pick up a nine.” “I’m afraid not, son,” spoke John, “but that looks like a place where a college president would hang out. Come on, we’ll give it a trial.”