The Boy Scout Treasure Hunters | Page 3

is the matter, do you?" said the soft-hearted superintendent.
"Yes, sir. I want the dentist to find what is the matter."
"It isn't a bad idea," said the superintendent. "It won't be necessary for you to go to town, though, for the dentist is coming out here next week."
"But I don't want to wait until next week," cried Glen. "I want to go to-day. I want him to pull one out."
"Which one?" inquired the superintendent.
It made little difference to Glen which tooth he denoted for the sacrifice. Now that he had told the lie he would stay by it. He pointed to a big double tooth and resolved that he would remember it.
The superintendent looked at the tooth and at the boy.
"Perhaps you don't know how much that tooth is worth?"
"No, sir," agreed Glen.
"A very conservative price is a hundred dollars, at your age. You wouldn't throw a hundred dollars away."
"No, sir; but I want it pulled."
It was all very well to talk of a hundred dollars, but when Glen had his mind set on a matter he would make any sacrifice.
"Well, you must not have it pulled. But have the dentist look at it. I will give you a pass for this afternoon. You will wear your uniform, walk to the car line and take the street car to the dentist's office. Let me ask you one thing, Glen. Don't forget to come back."
It was as if the superintendent read his thoughts. Glen changed color and looked foolish. He could think of only one thing to say. "At what time, sir?"
"You will be in by six o'clock. As you go to town and see the boys at liberty on the streets remember that if you keep up your good behavior you may soon be paroled and be as free as they. All you have to do, Glen, is to keep it up."
As he went to put on his uniform, the hated uniform that made it so hard for him to lose himself in the crowd, Glen realized better how it was that Nixon and some of the others who had been given liberty in town had never violated their trust. It seemed abominably mean and small to go back on a man like this. He actually began to have his own doubts. But it was very hard for Glen Mason to give up anything on which he had set his heart.
There were several things went wrong which were quite disturbing. In the first place he was obliged to change his clothing under the eye of the physical director which utterly spoiled any scheme of hiding a suit of overalls under his uniform. The walk to the street car and the ride to the doctor's office would have been very enjoyable had not every one stared at him and his uniform. More than once he heard some one say "There goes a reform school boy." Then the dentist did all manner of things in his efforts to find the nonexistent aching tooth. Finally he did find an area of tenderness in an entirely different tooth to the one specified.
"Does this tooth hurt you more than the others!" he asked.
"It does," Glen agreed, quite truthfully, an involuntary "Ouch" following his words.
"I thought as much," the doctor observed. "It is often hard to locate the pain definitely. The nerve reflexes are responsible for it. I will now drill into this and see what we find."
"Do you have to drill?" asked Glen.
"Surely. Have to clean out all the old decayed tooth before I fill it. I often give the boys from the school a little sermon by telling them the bad has to be cleaned out before you get sound living."
"Make it as easy as you can," Glen requested.
"Yes, of course. But cleaning out decay often hurts."
It did hurt but Glen would have fainted rather than make an outcry.
The doctor stepped to the 'phone and called up the superintendent.
"It's all right with the Mason boy," he said. "I've done all I can to-day for him. I'm leaving now. What shall he do until time for his car."
He turned to Glen as he received a reply.
"You are to wait until five o'clock in my reception room and then take the inter-urban car," he said, locking the inner office when they passed out. "I am leaving a little early to-night."
Before he left he stepped into a little closet which led out of the reception room and changed his office clothes. Glen's eyes sparkled. His problem was solved.
At five o'clock Glen Mason rode down in the elevator to the ground floor and asked the elevator man how he could identify the inter-urban car. But instead of leaving the building he dodged back to the stairway as soon as the elevator had started on its return trip and ran