The High School Boys in Summer Camp | Page 5

me to change the order to one of those cantaloupes for each of you."
The waitress departed on her errand, while Reade and Darrin glanced at each other, somewhat aghast. The delicacy ordered by Mr. Hibbert cost a quarter of a dollar a portion.
When the orders were brought and placed on the table, Alonzo Hibbert draw from his pocket a roll of bills, stripping off the outermost and handing it to the waitress. Yet their host gave no sign of attempting to make a vulgar display of his money. He seemed rather unconscious of the possession of it.
"Are these favorites of yours?" inquired Mr. Hibbert presently of Greg, indicating the multi-colored load of ices, each resting in a half of a cantaloupe.
"Not exactly favorites," Greg replied. "We don't often have the money to spend on such an expensive treat."
"Don't you?" inquired Hibbert in a tone of considerable surprise, as though wondering why everyone in the world wasn't as well supplied with money as he himself was.
Then, after a pause, their host asked of Greg:
"Would you like always to have plenty of money?"
"I suppose everyone would like that," murmured young Holmes.
"Shall I make a prediction?" inquired Hibbert.
"By all means, if it pleases you," Greg answered politely.
"Then, Greg Holmes, I venture to assert that you will very shortly find yourself a millionaire."
This was said with so much earnestness, and apparent sincerity, that all five of the chums now regarded their host intently.
"How soon is that going to happen?" Greg laughingly inquired.
"Within a week," Alonzo Hibbert replied as seriously as ever. He glanced at Greg with a look full of friendly interest.
Tom Reade snorted, almost audibly, then drew down the corners of his mouth to keep himself from laughing outright. Dave, too, took another swift look at their smiling young host.
"I wish you were a sure prophet," murmured Greg trying hard not to laugh.
"I am," declared Mr. Hibbert seriously. "Mind what I tell you, Greg Holmes, within a week you will know yourself to be a millionaire."
"Real money?" demanded Greg.
"Real money," nodded Hibbert positively. "Or else it will be in stocks, bonds or real estate that could be converted into real money."
By this time, Tom, Dave and the others, Greg included, had taken Alonzo Hibbert's measure or believed they had. Their host, then, was a lunatic. A harmless and very amiable lunatic, to be sure, yet none the less the victim of a deranged mind.
"Eaten up your creams?" asked Mr. Hibbert, glancing around. "Then we'll have another apiece."
He signaled the waitress, giving the order.
"Don't ask me---yet---how I know," continued their host, turning once more to Greg Holmes, "but you're going to find yourself a millionaire within a week. I know it. It's all in your ear."
As he spoke Hibbert gave Greg's right ear a playful tweak.
"All in Greg's ear?" muttered Tom Reade under his breath. "I knew that from the outset."
"All in your ear, Holmes!" Hibbert repeated. "Yet it will all be very real money. Oh, won't you be astonished!"
"I---I think I shall, when the wealth rains down upon me," murmured Greg, now afraid to raise his eyes to meet the mocking glance that Darry was sending toward him.
At this moment the stranger of the railway station entered the room, then came toward the table.
"Mr. Hibbert, here is the man who was inquiring for you at the station," Tom announced in a low voice.
Hibbert turned, glancing inquiringly at the stranger.
"Are you Mr. Hibbert?" asked the latter.
"Yes," nodded the man in the four-quart hat. "My name is Colquitt," explained the stranger. "I am from-----"
"Er---yes, quite so," murmured Mr. Hibbert. "And here is the boy. He is named Greg Holmes. Do you observe his right ear?"
"I do," Colquitt assented, after a swift, keen glance.
"He is the boy," Hibbert repeated after a moment's hesitation.
"Where do you live, young man?" asked Colquitt.
Greg supplied the name of his street and the number.
"Name of your family physician?" went on the stranger.
"Dr. Bentley."
"Has he always been your family physician?"
"Ever since I can remember," Greg declared.
"Thank you," and Colquitt turned to leave.
"Won't you stay and have an ice with us?" urged Hibbert.
"Too much to do," replied Colquitt, shaking his head and walking out.
Now the high school boys found themselves doubly, trebly puzzled. If Mr. Hibbert were an amiable lunatic, what of Colquitt? Both had appeared to know something mysterious about young Holmes.
Tom Reade, also, was thinking deeply. Dave Darrin was frowning. Dan Dalzell was grinning slightly, while Hazelton was giving his whole attention to the second ice before him.
Hibbert, however, passed to other topics as lightly as though he had already forgotten all about fortunes and ears. The time passed pleasantly until all of the five chums felt that they could hold no more ices. Then Hibbert, having paid the bill, left the ice cream place with them.
Outside they encountered Mr. Colquitt