The Grammar School Boys Snowbound | Page 8

suddenly blazed forth Greg.
"It's all right," nodded Tom.
"I'm going camping, if I can get any of you fellows to go with me,"
announced Dave Darrin.
"If your folks will let you, you mean," interrupted Hazelton.
"They will," Dave contended. "And so will yours, Dick."
"I--I hope so," sighed Dick, his eyes dancing. "I never before in my life
wanted to do anything as much as I now want to go camping."
"With the still woods, all snow-covered!" cried Dan enthusiastically.
"And the cold nights, with the great fire roaring up the chimney!"
supplied Greg.
"And some hunting!"
"And the jolly fun of cooking our own food!"
These youngsters, as they hurried along the street, were in grave danger
of being lost in the depths of their own excitement.
"Say, I wonder if there'd be any fishing out there--through the ice?"
demanded Harry Hazelton.
"There'd be some rabbit hunting, anyway," supplied Dan.
"If we can only get leave to go!" groaned Greg anxiously.
"See here, fellows," muttered Dick, halting suddenly. "We've simply

got to get that leave from our parents!"
"But how?" challenged Dan.
"That's what we've got to think out right now. And, by hookey! I
believe I have an idea. Fellows, we have ten dollars apiece."
"My mother will say that I must put that in bank," grunted Dan.
"Wait! Of course, with ten dollars apiece, we've got to consult our
parents as to how the money is to be spent," Dick went on. "Now, that
is a matter that will call for a little diplomacy. Some of what our
principal, Old Dut, calls 'finish'--no, 'finesse.'"
"What's that?" Dan wanted to know.
"Oh, it's a Latin or a Greek word, or something of the sort, meaning to
put a fine edge on a piece of business," Dick explained tranquilly.
"What I mean is this, fellows: Each one of us will go home and show
the money to his father--his father only. Then each one of us will ask
permission to spend five dollars of the money on a present for his
mother, to be given to her to-morrow morning as a surprise. Then we'll
ask our dads for leave to use the other five dollars towards provisioning
our camp. Fellows, if you go about it the right way, I'm sure you can
each get leave for the camping expedition! I feel just about sure on my
own account."
"But how about our mothers?" inquired Dan dubiously.
"Don't you think the present will smooth the way with the mothers?"
laughed Dave Darrin.
"It ought to," smiled Tom Reade.
"Don't you think we could get our mothers something pretty nice with
two dollars apiece?" asked Harry Hazelton speculatively.
"I couldn't get anything nice enough for my mother with two dollars,
when I have more money," Dick replied promptly.

Hazelton's money-saving plan was promptly voted down.
"So now," proposed Dick, "all we have to do is to hurry home and
hustle! Beat your way to it, fellows!"
"Hurrah!" Greg gasped.
Hurrying along Main Street, through the crowds of Christmas shoppers,
the Grammar School boys were on the point of parting, to go their
several ways homeward, when they came upon a scene that halted
them.
More than two dozen people, mostly women, had gathered around a
shabby-looking man who was clutching wildly at a lamp post, and yet
seemed in momentary danger of falling. His lips were thickly covered
with foam, his eyes glaring, and the fellow was talking wildly, in low
tones, as though to himself.
"Come away and leave him. He's intoxicated," announced one woman
shrilly.
"He's not intoxicated," responded another matron indignantly. "There is
no odor of liquor about the poor man. And drunken men don't froth at
the mouth. This poor fellow is ill--very ill. It must be a fit--maybe
epilepsy. Some of you women who have a little more brains and heart
than others help me to take this poor fellow to the drug store."
There were willing hands enough, now, among the women. Three or
four tried to take hold of the sufferer at once. That victim of an
unknown malady clutched and gripped at the good Samaritans as they
tried to steer him along the street toward the drug store. To hold him up
was all four women could do together, so progress along the street was
slow indeed.
"Here comes Dr. Bentley in his auto. Stop him, some one!"
The doctor quickly ran his car in toward the curb and leaped out. A fine
man and a busy physician, Dr. Bentley was never too much occupied to

stop and help an unfortunate man.
Dr. Bentley's big frame and broad shoulders loomed up in the crowd.
"Let me have the man on one side," urged the doctor. "One of you
ladies might help hold him on