ncoln!"

Their way led down the straight and shaded street which presently began
to show houses on either side, houses set in small gardens still aflame
with autumn flowers and divided from the road by neat hedges or
vine-clad fences. Then there were a few stores clustering about the
intersection of the present street and one running at right angles with
it, and a post-office and a fire-house and a diminutive town hall. The
old horse turned to the right here and ambled westward.

"You boys are sort of late," observed the driver conversationally.

"Why, school doesn't begin until to-morrow, does it?" asked Tom.

"No. I meant you was late for to-day. About twenty boys came this
afternoon, most of 'em on the train before this one. There was Prouty
and Newhall and Miller and a lot of 'em. You're new boys, though, ain't
you?"

They acknowledged it and the driver nodded.

"Thought I didn't remember your faces. I got a good memory for faces, I
have. Well, you're coming to a fine school, boys, a fine school! I guess
there ain't another like it in the country. I been driving back and
forth for nigh on twelve years and I know it pretty well now. Know lots
o' the boys, too. Nice fellers, they be. Always have a good word for me.
Generous, they be, too. Always handin' me a tip and thinkin' nothing of
it."

Steve nudged Tom with his elbow. "That's fine," he said. "You must be
pretty rich by now."

"Rich? Me rich?" The driver shook his head sorrowfully. "No, sir, there
ain't much chance o' gettin' rich at this business, what with the high
cost of feed and all. No, gentlemen, I'm a poor man and I don't never
expect to be aught else. Get-ap, Abe Lincoln!"

The village, or what there was of it, had been left behind now and the
road was winding slightly uphill through woodland. The sun was slanting
into their faces, casting long shadows. Now and then a gate and the
beginning of a well-kept driveway suggested houses set out of sight on
the wooded knolls about them. The carriage crossed the railroad track
and the driver pointed ahead of him with his whip.

"There's the school," he said; and the boys craned forward to see.

"Gee, but ain't it big!" muttered Steve.

CHAPTER V

NUMBER 12 BILLINGS

The woods had given way to open fields, and they could follow with their
eyes the course of the road ahead as it turned to the left and ran,
almost parallel to the railroad, past where a pair of stone gate-posts
guarded the