Produced by Sean Pobuda
Or
By Arthur M. Winfield
(Edward Stratemeyer)
My Dear Boys:
"The Rover Boys at School" has been written that those of you whohave never put in a term or more at an American military academyfor boys may gain some insight into the workings of such aninstitution.
While Putnam Hall is not the real name of the particular place oflearning I had in mind while penning this tale for your amusementand instruction, there is really such a school, and dear CaptainPutnam is a living person, as are also the lively, wide-awake,fun-loving Rover brothers, Dick, Tom, and Sam, and theirschoolfellows, Larry, Fred, and Frank. The same can be said, to acertain degree, of the bully Dan Baxter, and his toady, the sneak,commonly known as "Mumps."
The present story is complete in itself, but it is written as thefirst of a series, to be followed by "The Rover Boys on the Ocean"and "The Rover Boys in the Jungle," in both of which volumes wewill again meet many of our former characters.
Trusting that this tale will find as much favor in your hands ashave my previous stories, I remain,
Affectionately and sincerely yours,
"Hurrah, Sam, it is settled at last that we are to go to boardingschool!"
"Are you certain, Tom? Don't let me raise any false hopes."
"Yes, I am certain, for I heard Uncle Randolph tell Aunt Marthathat he wouldn't keep us in the house another week. He said hewould rather put up with the Central Park menagerie—think ofthat!" and Tom Rover began to laugh.
"That's rather rough on us, but I don't know but what we deserveit," answered Sam Rover, Tom's younger brother. "We have beengiving it pretty strong lately, with playing tricks on Sarah thecook, Jack the hired man, and Uncle Randolph's pet dog Alexander.But then we had to do something—or go into a dry rot. Life inthe country is all well enough, but it's mighty slow for me."
"I guess it is slow for anybody brought up in New York, Sam. Why,the first week I spent here I thought the stillness would kill me.I couldn't actually go to sleep because it was so quiet. I wishuncle and aunt would move to the city. They have money enough."
"Aunt Martha likes to be quiet, and uncle is too much wrapped up inthe art of scientific farming, as he calls it. I'll wager he'll stayon this farm experimenting and writing works on agriculture until hedies. Well, it's a good enough way to do, I suppose, but it wouldn'tsuit me. I want to see something of life—as father did."
"So do I. Perhaps we'll see something when we get to boardingschool."
"Where are we to go?"
"I don't know. Some strict institution, you can be sure of that. UncleRandolph told aunty it was time the three of us were taken in hand. Hesaid Dick wasn't so bad, but you and I—"
"Were the bother of his life, eh?"
"Something about like that. He doesn't see any fun in tricks. Heexpects us to just walk around the farm, or study, and, above allthings, keep quiet, so that his scientific investigations are notdisturbed. Why doesn't he let us go out riding, or boating on theriver, or down to the village to play