Part 5 (1/2)
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 fis.h.i.+ng 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 d.i.c.k, 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,” d.i.c.k went on. ”Now, that is a matter that will call for a little diplomacy. Some of what our princ.i.p.al, 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,” d.i.c.k 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,” d.i.c.k replied promptly.
Hazelton's money-saving plan was promptly voted down.
”So now,” proposed d.i.c.k, ”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.