Frank made up his mind that he would interest himself in the drifting waif
of a fellow. As he thought of the big, husky farmer and his houseful of
grown sons and daughters, he wondered if in their rough, unthinking way
they had not quite broken the spirit of the motherless lad in their midst.

"Sit down here," ordered the farmer, turning the seat so it faced Frank.
"This boy is going to Bellwood, Robert. He's agreed to take you along with
him, and I'm going back home."

Robert shot a glance of dislike and suspicion at Frank, as if he was a link
in a chain of jailers waiting for him along the line of life.

"You behave yourself along with him down at the academy, or I'll put you in
the reform school," threatened the farmer harshly.

"Oh, give Bob something to think of that's pleasant," put in Frank
cheerily. "It's a scary thing for a fellow, first time he goes among
strangers. I'm bracing up myself to meet the rollicking, mischief-making
crowd at Bellwood, who will just be lying in wait to guy us and haze us.
We'll stand together, Bob, hey? and give them good as they send," and Frank
slapped the lad on the shoulder, with a ringing laugh.

"They won't haze me," muttered Bob.

"Yes, they will, and then you and I will lay around to haze the new fellows
who came after us," cried Frank. "Ha! ha! you'll see some fun down at
Bellwood, Bob. They're a capital set of fellows, I'm told. We'll make the
best of them, anyhow, and the best of ourselves. Come, friend Bob, we'll
stick together and get all the fun out of life we can. Chums, is it?"