"They are under the carriage seat. But mum's the word, for we don't want the driver to know."
"I've got some cake and stuff in a box in my trunk," whispered Ben in return. "Here's the check. I hope they didn't smash things too much. They handle trunks pretty roughly on this railroad."
"They do on all roads," declared the senator's son. "That's the reason they call baggagemen trunk-smashers."
The check was passed over to the Hall driver, and soon the trunk was lashed to the back of the carryall, and off the crowd started for the Hall. On the way Ben told of affairs at Crumville, and of a visit he had paid to the Wadsworths and Caspar Potts.
"The old professor is very proud to think you are doing so well here," said Ben. "And the others are delighted too."
"And how is Professor Potts's health?"
"They told me it was better than it had been. He takes care of the flowers and does a great deal of writing for Mr. Wadsworth. And what do you think?" cried Ben, suddenly. "Nat Poole is thinking of coming to this academy."
"What, to Oak Hall!" ejaculated Dave.
"Exactly. I heard it by accident."
"I don't like that."
