The Grammar School Boys Snowbound | Page 6

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
going back to his desk.
"Your son said you wished to see us," Prescott continued.
"Yes," said the lawyer, pulling a drawer in his desk open and glancing
inside. "Late yesterday afternoon I received a letter from my client, Mrs.
Dexter, who directed me to hand you each a new ten-dollar bill, with
her best wishes for a Merry Christmas added."
"I am afraid that Mrs. Dexter intends that as a reward for what we were
able to do for her last fall," cried Dick, flushing. "We tried to tell her, at
the time, that we didn't want any reward and that we wouldn't feel
comfortable in taking one."

"Nothing was said in Mrs. Dexter's letter about a reward," replied the
lawyer dryly. "She directed me to hand you the banknotes in place of
Christmas cards. I suppose you young gentlemen have no objection to
receiving Christmas cards?"
Lawyer Ripley took out several banknotes. One of these he now held
out to Prescott.
Dick flushed again, looked embarrassed, then reached out his hand
slowly and took the money.
"Will you send Mrs. Dexter our thanks, sir, and tell her that we enjoyed
the cards very much?"
"Especially the pictures on them," added Dan Dalzell, as he received
his banknote.
"I will send all your messages," nodded the lawyer, as he continued the
distribution.
"Say--whoop!" suddenly exploded Greg Holmes.
"What's the matter--yours counterfeit?" laughed Dan.
"Say, fellows," Greg went on, "we were wishing we had the funds to
build some sort of a camp. We can do it, now, can't we?"
"What kind of camp?" inquired Lawyer Ripley, looking mildly
interested. "And for what would you use a camp?"
"Why, for camping, I suppose," confessed Greg.
"You wouldn't live in a tent, at this time of the year, would you?"
"If we had to," assented young Holmes. "What we were talking about
was building some kind of a shack in the woods somewhere."
"Rather a bad time of the year for building operations," smiled Lawyer
Ripley dryly.

"But this wouldn't be so very much of an operation, sir," urged Greg.
"Now that we've sixty dollars between us, we ought to be able to buy
enough lumber to put up quite a shanty."
"Yes; and probably have enough money left to pay for the teaming of
the lumber a few miles," agreed the man of law. "But there wouldn't be
enough to pay the carpenters."
"We might be able to build a small shack ourselves," proposed Tom
Reade.
"Why, so you might," admitted the lawyer, half smiling. "However, any
task that is worth doing is much better done by one used to that kind of
work. When do you want to go camping?"
"Why, right after to-morrow, Christmas," replied Dick. "We could stay
in the woods, if our parents let us go, until about the end of the present
vacation."
"It would take you at least that length of time to build the shack, I
should think," suggested the lawyer. "Until you had it built you might
have to wrap up in the snow at night for your sleep. And, then, when
you had it all built, you would discover that the shack didn't belong to
you, but to the owner of the land on which you built it. He could order
you away from the shack if he were so disposed."
"I hadn't thought of that," admitted Greg, looking crestfallen.
"I'm afraid we won't camp," spoke up Harry Hazelton.
"The greatest difficulty," suggested the lawyer, "would be getting the
consent of