that has been established for some twenty years," went on Mr. Rover, pushing back his spectacles and laying down the agricultural work he had been perusing. "It is presided over by Captain Victor Putnam, an old army officer, who in his younger days used to be a schoolmaster. He is a strict disciplinarian, and will make you toe the mark; but let me say right here, I have it from Mr. Colby that there is no schoolmaster who is kinder or more considerate of his pupils."
"Is it a regular military institution like West Point?" asked Tom.
"Hardly, Thomas, although the students, so I am informed, dress like cadets and spend an hour or so each day in drilling, and in the summer all the school march up the lake and go into an encampment."
"That just suits me!" broke in Sam enthusiastically. "Hurrah for Putnam Hall!"
"Hurrah!" echoed Tom faintly, and Dick nodded to show he felt as they did. At the cheer, Sarah the cook stuck her head into the door.
"Sure an' I thought Tom was out of his head, bedad," she observed.
"Sarah, I'm going away soon—to a military academy. I won't bother you any more," said Tom.
