The Grammar School Boys Snowbound | Page 5

whole camping idea is a great one, if we could only put it through," declared Dick.
"Then let's put it through," pressed Greg Holmes. "Where there's a will there's a way, you know."
"The trouble is that we need a pocketbook more than a will," returned Prescott doubtfully. "It would take lumber to build a winter camp, even if we could prove ourselves good enough carpenters."
"How much money would it take?"
"Well, I don't believe a hundred dollars would go far," declared Reade.
"Make it a thousand, then," laughed Darrin. "We fellows couldn't raise either sum in a year."
"It's too bad," sighed Harry Hazelton. "A good camp, at this time of the year, would be huge fun!"
"Yes; it would," agreed Dick. "I don't see the way now, but we may find it. We can keep on hoping."
"Hey, you boobs!" called a disagreeable voice across the ice.
All of the six Grammar School boys slowed down and turned around. They found themselves looking at a solitary skater who had slowed down. He was Fred Ripley, son of Lawyer Ripley, one of the wealthy men of the town. Fred was never over polite to those whom he considered as his "inferiors." Besides, young Ripley was now in his freshman year at the Gridley High School. As such, he naturally looked down on mere Grammar School boys, none of whom, perhaps, would ever reach the dignity of "attending High."
"What do you want, Ripley?" called Dick. "Planning to give us a lesson in the art of polite speech?"
"Cut the funny talk," grumbled Fred. "Prescott, did you get a letter from my guv'nor this morning?"
"Why, no; I didn't know your father was in the habit of writing me letters. Anyway, I left home before the mail carrier was due."
"Guv'nor said that was likely to happen," continued Fred. "So he told me, if I saw you fellows on the ice, to say that he wanted to see you."
"All of us?" Dave wanted to know.
"I reckon so. And the guv'nor said it was important, too. You boobs had better crank up your skates and make fast time. Guv'nor won't be at his office late to-day."
"What----" began Dick.
"The guv'nor gave me a message to you fellows, and I've delivered it," cut in Fred airily, as he started to skate away. "That's all I've got to do in the matter. I don't care to stand here all day. Somebody that knew me might come along and catch me talking with you."
"The snob!" muttered Dave indignantly.
"What on earth can the lawyer want of us?" pondered Greg.
"Generally, when a lawyer sends for you, it means trouble," guessed Dalzell.
"Or else some relative has died and left you a lot of money," added Harry Hazelton.
"Well, in any case," replied Dick, "we six fellows haven't the same relative, anywhere, and Fred said his father wanted to see all of us."
"We haven't been doing anything--nothing wrong, anyway," declared Dan virtuously.
"We won't know the answer until we've seen Mr. Ripley," declared Dick. "We'll have to go around there after dinner to-day."
"Why not go now?" proposed Tom Reade. "We haven't anything special to do with our time."
"You fellows haven't much imagination, have you?" laughed Dave, his eyes twinkling mysteriously.
"Have you guessed?" demanded Dick Prescott.
"Well, it's only a guess, of course, and it may be a wild one."
"Out with it!" ordered Tom Reade sharply.
"You know, fellows," Dave continued, "that we did some service for Mrs. Dexter last fall, and that she tried to reward us. Now that she's gone away to parts unknown, perhaps you also know that Lawyer Ripley is managing her money affairs these days."
"Then----" gasped Greg.
"Why, fellows, now that Mrs. Dexter is away, and we can't stop her, and as to-morrow will be Christmas, why, perhaps----"
Not one single member of Dick & Co. was at all lacking in imagination now!
"Why, do you think----"
"I wonder if----"
"Fellows," hinted Dick Prescott dryly, and in a tone that hid the excitement going on within him, "it won't take us long to skate back to Gridley!"
CHAPTER II
DICK & CO. FIND CAUSE FOR GLEE
Lawyer Ripley was one of the important men of the little city of Gridley. His law practice, which he did not now follow on account of the need of an income, put him in touch with all the wealthier people of the place.
In manner the lawyer was rather severe and austere. He was a good deal of an aristocrat. While he did not seek to repel people, he had little of the knack of drawing people to him in democratic fashion.
"Come in!" he called, in answer to the knock that Dick gave on the door.
As the boys entered they saw the lawyer pausing beside his coat rack.
"I am afraid we have gotten along a little too late, sir," apologized Dick Prescott.
"I can spare you two or three minutes," said the lawyer, turning and