Fiction

The Grammar School Boys Snowbound or, Dick & Co. at Winter Sports

H. Irving Hancock

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CHAPTER V

DICK TRIES STRATEGY


"Hey! Hear about Dick Prescott?"

"What?"

"His Christmas got 'pinched'!"

"No!"

"Sure."

Rapidly indeed did the news travel about. Dick told it to his own chums
first. The news "leaked" and traveled up and down the streets as Gridley
boys began to come forth to compare their Christmas experiences.

Just as certainly, too, the news didn't lose any on its rounds. By the
time that the yarn had been carried to the further end of Main Street,
Dick's holiday losses had mounted up to a total of: A gold watch and
chain, a diamond stickpin, a twenty dollar gold piece, a suit of
clothes, silver plated racing skates, a camera, a cornet and a host of
lesser articles.

"Whee! The Prescotts must have been making money this year," commented
Ben Alvord, when he heard the long list of presents named.

"Say," proposed Dave Darrin indignantly, "we'll hike all over Gridley
and just see if we can't run into Mr. Fits somewhere. If we find him
we'll jump him all together, and then holler for the police."

Quite a bit of searching the six members of Dick & Co. did that morning,
though all without the least success. It presently dawned on these
Grammar School boys that Mr. Fits must have left Gridley far behind.

"We'll keep our mind on the camping, anyway," proposed Dick. "We want to
start to-morrow morning. We ought to meet at eight o'clock, and then get
away together as soon after as we can."

"And hoof it twelve miles?" asked Hazelton.

"No; as we'll have so much stuff to carry, we'll have to pay someone to
drive the stuff out there for us. If we have a wagon we may as well ride
on it."

"I hope you fellows will all have a good time," suggested Dan Dalzell
generously, though his own face still wore a doleful look. For his
father and mother had held out against his going. All of the other boys
had secured permission.

"It's a shame you can't go, Dan," blazed Dave.

"That's what I think," muttered Dan. "Huh! I've a good mind to run away
from home."

"You'd get spanked when you went back," laughed Tom Reade.

"Huh! I ought to run away and never come back," growled Dan.

"Oh, cut that out--do!" urged Dick. "Be a fellow of good sense, Danny.
Your father and mother have their own reasons for not wanting you to
go."

"Their reasons don't do me any good," uttered Dan resentfully.

"Would it do any good if we all went down to your house and tried
coaxing for you?" asked Greg Holmes.

"Not a bit," declared Danny gloomily.

"Say, will you fellows wait here a little while?" begged Dick. "I want
to run home a minute. I'll be right back."

"Go ahead," nodded Dave.

Dick started on a trot, for he had a new thought as to a possible way of
securing Dan's happiness.

As young Prescott turned a corner and raced homeward, he was espied by a
boy on the other side of the street.

"Hey, Dick!" challenged Hen Dutcher gleefully. "What time is it?"

Dick flushed, but wisely made no answer.

"Humph!" muttered Hen to himself. "Just as well his watch did get the
run-off. Now Dick Prescott won't be hauling his old timepiece out every
two minutes in school to see what time it is."

Dick reached home somewhat out of breath.

"Who's been chasing you?" demanded Mr. Prescott, snatching up a cane
that stood in the corner of the parlor. He assumed a ferocious
expression, which, with one of as peaceable a disposition as Dick's
father possessed, looked more than out of place.

"I haven't got time to joke, dad," objected the boy, dropping into a
chair. "But I've got something very particular that I want you to do for
me, and it will make Christmas really jolly after all if you can do it."

Then Dick unfolded his plan, while Mr. Prescott looked uneasy.

"Why, Dick, my boy, if Dalzell's parents don't want him to go camping it
would look very strange in me to call on them and urge them to exchange
their own good judgment for mine. It would look like an impertinence on
my part. Dan's father and mother are the very best judges as to whether
he should be allowed to go away several days camping. In fact, although
I've consented to it, I'm not sure that I have shown the best kind of
judgment in the matter."

"Oh, I don't want you to urge the Dalzells very hard, dad. I'm not just
asking that. But I think, if you talk it over with them, perhaps----"

"It's a queer bit of business for me," remarked Mr. Prescott.

"But will you go, Dad? Please."

"Yes," agreed Mr. Prescott very reluctantly.

"Can you--can you just as easily go soon, dad?"

"Ye-es. I'll go now. It's such a queer piece of business that I shall be
thankful when I have it over with."

"And you'll say the best word you can think of, won't you?"

"If you don't stop soon, young man, I may change my mind and back out
altogether."

But Dick, who knew well enough that his father's promise, once given,
was never gone back on, thanked him and then danced joyously out into
the street again.

"What was the matter, Dick?" asked Tom Reade, curiously, when he
rejoined his chums. "Did you forget something?"

"There was something I wanted to talk to dad about," responded Dick
evasively.

"What----" began Dan, without an inkling of a true guess.

"Be still, you Danny boy," ordered Dave Darrin bluntly. "The family
affairs of the Prescotts should be no concern of yours."

Though, very much to his regret, Dick did not possess a watch, he
nevertheless managed to keep very good track of the time. Something more
than an hour later he led the fellows around to his own corner. He was
just in time to see Mr. Prescott returning.

"You stay here a minute," young Prescott directed, then set off at a run
to join his father.

"Did you--did you----" he panted, as he reached his parent.

"Yes," replied the head of the family, a bit stiffly. "I made a nuisance
of myself over at the Dalzells. I talked and talked. They talked, too,
and both Mr. and Mrs. Dalzell asked me if I thought it at all safe to
let such a busy little gang of hooligans as you boys go off on such an
expedition. All I could say was to point out the fact that I had given
you leave. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Dalzell gave their consent to Dan's going.
So now I hope you're satisfied."

"Satisfied? Oh, dad, thank you! This is the best Christmas ever. Thank
you! Whoop!"

With that young Prescott executed an about-face and went charging back
to where he had left his chums.

"Are you crazy?" demanded Dan curiously.

"No; but you'll be, in a minute. Dad went over to see your folks, and
they've given in. You're to go with us."
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