The Rover Boys in Business Part 19

But the students had little time just now for anything outside of their final examinations. Many papers had to be prepared, and poor Tom often wondered how he would ever get through with any satisfaction, either to himself or his instructors. With Sam, the task seemed much easier, for, as d.i.c.k had once declared, Sam was "a regular bookworm,"

and no studies seemed to worry him in the least.

"If I get through at all, I shall be lucky," vouchsafed Tom, after pa.s.sing in a particularly hard paper.

"We'll hope for the best," returned Sam.

During those days came another letter from d.i.c.k, in which he stated that he had moved into the offices vacated by Pelter, j.a.pson & Company, and was doing his best to get everything into working order.

He added that, on the request of their father, he had disposed of some stocks, and in their stead, had purchased sixty-four thousand dollars'

worth of bonds.

"My, that's some bonds!" remarked Sam, on reading the letter.

"Well, bonds are usually much safer than stocks, even if they don't pay so well," answered Tom.

There was a letter from their Aunt Martha, who stated that their father did not seem to be quite as well as he had been the week previous. She added that they had called in another doctor, who had stated, after an examination, that there was no cause for alarm--that Mr. Rover must be kept quiet and not worried, and probably, he would be his old self in another month or two.

"I am glad that the college is to shut down soon," said Sam, when he and his brother were discussing this communication. "I want to see dad and make sure things are not worse than Aunt Martha pictures them."

"Exactly the way I feel about it, Sam. They may be holding back something on us just so we won't be worried."

Two days later came the final examination for, both the Rovers, and they felt much relieved. Songbird was also "out of the woods," as he expressed it, and asked them if they did not want to join him and Spud in a short row on the river.

"That suits me," cried Tom. "I want to get out into the air somewhere.

I am done with cla.s.srooms forever. If it was not for the look of things, I would be turning handsprings on the campus."

"Ditto," added Sam.

"Well, come on," said Songbird. And a few minutes later the four students were down at the boathouse, getting out one of the four-oared boats.

"Say, Songbird, I should think this would put you in the rhyming fever," said Sam, as the four lads rowed out on the river.

"It does," returned the would-be poet.

"All right, turn on the verse spigot and let us have the latest effusion," cried Tom, gaily.

"The verses aren't finished yet," answered Songbird. And then resting his oar, he drew from his pocket a slip of paper and began to read:

"The term is pa.s.sed, Away we cast Our books and papers with great glee.

No more we'll train Each tired brain----"

"Instead, we'll cheer because we're free!"

concluded Tom.

"Say, that isn't half bad," broke out Songbird, enthusiastically. "I was going to put in something about flee----"

"For gracious sake! What have fleas to do with this poetry?"

interposed Tom.

"Fleas! Who said anything about fleas?" snorted Songbird. "I said 'flee,' f-l-e-e."

"Oh, I see! That's the flee that fled, not the flea who refuses to flee," went on Tom. And at this sally, the other boys laughed.

"Never mind, give us the rest of it," put in Spud.

"There isn't any 'rest'--not yet," answered the would-be poet. And then the bays resumed the row up the river.

CHAPTER XIII

AT THE FARM

"All aboard who are going! We haven't any time to spare if you want to catch that nine-fifteen train."

"Good-bye, Tom, don't forget to write."

"Say, Spud, when you get down to the Maine coast, don't eat too many lobsters."

"And that puts me in mind, Stanley. When you reach the Grand Canyon, send me a piece of rock; I want to see how the Canyon looks."

"Say, whose baseball mitt is this anyway?" And following this question, the mitt came sailing through the air, to land on the floor of the Brill carryall.

"Please get off of my feet!" The wail came from William Philander Tubbs, who was sitting in a corner with another student partly on his lap.

"Everybody shove, and we'll be off!" cried another student, merrily.

Then came a great mixture of cries and whistles, intermingled with the tooting of horns and the sounding of rattles, in the midst of which there moved from the Brill grounds several carriages and an equal number of automobiles.

The term had come to an end, and the students were preparing to scatter. The majority were going home, but others had planned to go directly to the summer resorts where they were to spend their vacations.

"Good-bye, Brill!" sang out Tom, and, for once, his voice was a trifle husky. Now that he was leaving the college not to return, a sudden queer sensation stole over the youth. He looked at his brother, and then turned his gaze away.

"Never mind, Tom," said Sam, softly. "If I come back, as I expect, you'll have to come and visit me."

Hope Seminary was not to close until the week following, and the evening before the Rovers had visited Grace and Nellie. From them, Sam and Tom had heard news that interested them greatly. This was to the effect that Dora had invited her cousins to visit her in New York City some time during the vacation.

"That will be fine!" Tom had cried. "You come when Sam and I are there, and we'll do all we can to give you the best kind of a time."

And so it had been arranged.

The boys and their friends were in the Rover touring car. This machine, it had been decided, was to remain at the college garage, in care of Abner Filbury. Abner was now driving, so that the boys were at liberty to do as they pleased.

"Let's give 'em a song," suggested Stanley, and the boys sang one college song after another, the tunes being caught up by those in the other turnouts. Thus they rolled up to the railroad station in Ashton.

Then the train came in, and all the young collegians lost no time in getting aboard.

"Where are you going, my dear William Philander?" asked Tom, of the dudish student, who sat in front of him.