THE SCHOOL GIVES SUPPORT
“Glad you didn’t give us pie, too!” said Joe fervently, “But what’s the
big idea, Jerry? Going into the restaurant business?”
“Sort of,” answered the host. “Way I figured it’s this. The fellers
don’t have much chance to spend their money around school. Of course
they can go to Annapolis, and now and then they can get up to
Baltimore, but there ain’t――isn’t any place around school where they
can buy cake or pie or candy and――and blow their money. Well, if they
could make up a party of half a dozen, maybe, and come out here on a
Saturday night and have a good feed and sit around by the fire, why,
seems to me a lot of them would like to do it.”
“You bet they would!” asserted Wayne. “And I’ll guarantee to make up
the first crowd, Jerry!”
“Ham and eggs and sweet potatoes and coffee, and maybe a wedge of
pie, would be about all they’d get, but they’d be hungry when they
got here, I reckon, same as you fellers were. I figure I can feed six
fellers for seventy-five cents apiece and make a little money doing it.
And I’d like it, too. I like being out here and I like to cook things.
That’s one reason I asked you fellers.” Jerry grinned. “I wanted
testimonials from you-all.”
“Well, you can sure have one from me,” said Joe. “I think it’s a
corking scheme, boy, and if Wayne doesn’t let me come with his bunch
I’ll get up a crowd of my own!”
“Just Saturday nights, Jerry?” asked Tom.
“Yes. I couldn’t do it more’n once a week, Tom. Wouldn’t have time. And
Saturday looks like the best day, don’t it?”
“There’s just one trouble with the scheme,” said Wayne sadly. “Faculty
will get onto it and put its foot down. Faculty loves putting its foot
down on our innocent amusements, Jerry.”
“’Tain’t going to put no foot down on this,” replied Jerry,
substituting earnestness for grammar. “First thing I done――did was see
Doctor Heidler, and he said I could do it. Said he thought ’twas a fine
idea. Only――er――only restriction he made was that the fellers would
have to be back by nine o’clock. He was mighty nice about it.”
“You win!” said Wayne. “Book me and five others for next Saturday
night, Jerry.”
“Am I in?” asked Joe anxiously. “’Cause if I’m not――――”
“Sure! And you, too, Tom, if you’ll come.”
“Glad to, thanks,” replied Tom. “But what are you going to do with all
the money you make, Jerry?”
“I ain’t aiming to make such a heap,” said Jerry soberly. “You see,
things are pretty high――――”
“That’s the way they all talk,” sighed Tom, “from Broadway to――to North
Bank, Maryland!”
“I’m figuring I can clear about two dollars and a half off a party of
six fellers. What I make I got a good use for, Tom.”
“Bet you’re going to buy an automobile,” laughed Joe.
But Jerry shook his head gravely. “I――I’ve got a use for it,” he said.
“Hope you make a pile,” said Wayne heartily. “And I’ll advertise the
scheme all I know how.”
“Me, too,” said Joe. “How would it do if I stuffed a pillow under my
sweater to-morrow, and then, when fellows asked me how I got so fat,
tell them I’d eaten supper out here? By the way, what are you calling
the place, Jerry?”
“Just ‘The Cabin,’ I reckon. Sounds all right, don’t it?”
“I’ll say so. Of course you might pick on something more fancy,
like――like ‘Forest Inn’ or ‘Bensonhurst-in-the-Woods’ or――――”
“‘The Ham-and-Eggery,’” finished Tom. “Shut up, Joke, ‘The Cabin’ is
the best. If I were you, Jerry, I’d put up a notice in the Hall.”
“That’s the idea!” agreed Wayne. “‘Eat at The Cabin! Ham and Eggs a la
Jerry!’ Say, let’s work up a poster, fellows! Got a piece of paper,
Joe?”
Joe hadn’t, but Jerry found a paper bag and smoothed it out, and Wayne
pushed the empty dishes from a corner of the table and moistened the
tip of a pencil. Then he looked around inquiringly. “What’s the catch
line?” he demanded.
“‘Dine in the Woods,’” offered Tom.
“’Tain’t dinner,” objected Jerry. “It’s supper.”
“That’s so,” Wayne agreed. “How would this do? ‘The Cabin Calls You!’”
“Not bad,” said Tom. “Seems to me, though, there ought to be something
about eats in the top line. You know how fellows are, Wayne.”
“Reckon that’s so. ‘Sup at The Cabin?’ That doesn’t quite get it, does
it? Sup is a punk word. Wait a second!” Wayne frowned intently and then
began to write. Joe, looking over his shoulder, nodded applaudingly.
Finally, Wayne read the result:
HAVE YOU HAD SUPPER AT THE CABIN?
If you Haven’t you’ve Missed a Treat! Ham-and-Eggs
and Sweet Potatoes, Coffee and Pie, Cooked
on a Camp Stove and Eaten Camp Fashion
Right in the Woods! Parties of Six
Accommodated on Saturday Nights.
ALL YOU CAN EAT FOR SEVENTY-FIVE
CENTS. GET IN LINE, FELLOWS!
Make your Reservations Now with Benson,
7 Baldwin House
“Swell!” declared Joe. “That’ll make their mouths water, I’ll bet! What
do you say, Jerry?”
“Reckon it couldn’t be any better,” said Jerry gratefully. “I’m
powerful much obliged, Wayne.”
“There’s just one objection that I can see,” said Tom.
“Oh, of course you’d find something wrong,” scoffed Joe. “What is it?”
“Well, I think it would be a good idea, in view of the fact that Joke
will be here next Saturday, to scratch out that about ‘All you can eat
for seventy-five cents.’ Anybody knows that you can’t give Joke all he
can eat for any such price!”
“You dry up and blow away,” grumbled Joe, amidst laughter.
“Aside from that, though, you think it’s all right, Tom?” asked Wayne.
“Corking! Joe’s rather a dabster with a pen. Let him make a real
poster.”
“All right! And I say!” Joe snapped his fingers excitedly. “We ought to
have a picture of the cabin on it! Who’s got a camera?”
“I have,” said Wayne, “and that’s a peachy idea! Tell you what, Jerry,
you and I’ll come out to-morrow and get two or three shots at it. Then
we’ll take the film over to Annapolis Monday and have the fellow over
there make some prints. He ought to do it in a day or so if we tell him
we’re in a hurry.”
“We’ll all come out to-morrow,” said Tom. “I’ve got a camera myself
somewhere. I haven’t used it for an age, and I’ll shoot a couple, too,
and we can use the best of the lot. I’ll just bet you, Jerry, that
this thing goes great! It’s a shame you didn’t find the place sooner,
though, for there aren’t many Saturdays left.”
“Eight more after to-day,” said Jerry. “Maybe if fellers like it I can
go on with it next fall.”
“Sure,” said Joe. “By the way, though, it would be a beastly sell if
the fellow who owns it came back and put you out!”
“Well, I asked Doctor Heidler about that. He didn’t know who built
it, but he said the land belongs to some real estate company over to
Washington and that they ain’t likely to care if I use the Cabin.
Reckon whoever built it is moved away from here and ain’t likely to
come back. Hope he don’t, neither, because I feel like it was my own
now.” And Jerry’s gaze wandered almost affectionately about the little
lantern-lighted room.
“Oh, you’re safe enough, I guess,” said Tom. “Say, what about that fire
out there?”
Joe leaned back and looked through the open door. “It’s out,” he
reported. “Anyway, we wouldn’t have time for it to-night, I guess.” He
glanced at his watch and whistled. “For the love of faculty, fellows!
It’s twenty-two minutes past eight! Here, let’s get at the dishes and
beat it for school!”
“You don’t need to bother about the dishes,” said Jerry. “I’m aiming to
come out some day and tidy up.”
“Nonsense,” declared Wayne. “We aren’t going to leave you with this
mess. Shove me a lantern, Tom, and I’ll fetch some water. I know the
way. You fellows get the table cleared.”
Twenty minutes later they passed out and Jerry turned the key in a new
padlock. Then, with the aid of one of the lanterns, which Jerry cached
at the end of the trail, they made their way out of the woods and soon
were swinging along at a lively pace toward the school, Joe and Tom
volunteering as an impromptu glee club and Jerry and Wayne walking
together behind rather silently. They were silent partly because
conversation would have been difficult with Tom declaring in bass and
Joe in tenor that
“’Twas a fine day in the early spring,
The trees were green and ev’rything,
The birds were singing here and there
And the atmosphere was full of air!”
And partly they were silent because Wayne had eaten heartily and was
filled with contentment and Jerry was too busy laying plans to insure
the success of his enterprise to do much talking.
The next afternoon, armed with three cameras, for Joe, not to be
outdone, had borrowed one for the occasion, the four returned to The
Cabin. (We might as well follow Jerry’s lead and capitalize it, too!)
Much good film was wasted, as was afterward proved, especially as Joe
was not acquainted with the instrument he brought and consequently
didn’t discover until too late that the lens was blinded by a cute
little round stopper. Joe, having caught the picture in the finder,
was quite satisfied and took six perfectly wonderful views of The
Cabin. At least, we will presume that they were wonderful. There was
nothing to prove otherwise when a perfectly empty strip of film was
developed! Tom and Wayne, however, had better success, and the print
that adorned the top of Joe’s poster two days later, one of Wayne’s, by
the way, showed a most attractive and picturesque old hut steeped in
sunshine and laced with the shadow-tracery of the overhanging trees. In
front, by the open door, stood three boys. One held a frying pan, one
a coffeepot and the other the major portion of a large ham, and each
had tried his best to look as if he had recently supped to repletion.
Unfortunately, since the picture was small, such detail as the latter
was missing. For that matter, no one could have identified any of the
three in the photograph. One, the figure at the extreme left, was
slightly blurred owing to the fact that Joe had attempted to caress Tom
with the frying pan at the instant that Wayne’s fingers pressed the
bulb.
But the photograph was a success, and so, most assuredly, was the
poster, and its appearance on the notice board in Founders’ Hall
Tuesday evening created quite a sensation. In something under an hour
it was known throughout school that the poster wasn’t a hoax; that
Jerry Benson, for the trifling sum of seventy-five cents――trifling, at
least, if you had it or could borrow it――guaranteed to fill you quite
full of ham and eggs and other perfectly delectable viands; and that if
you wanted to get in on the fun you had to speak quick since the next
two Saturday nights were already engaged!
The latter statement was no more than the truth, for in less than half
an hour after the poster appeared Lory Browne, having listened to a
glowing account of The Cabin and the brand of entertainment to be had
there from Joe, had sought Jerry and secured the Saturday after next.
To anticipate, since other things than Jerry’s catering enterprise
must claim attention, the first few days saw the success of The Cabin
assured. Every Saturday night was bespoken. And the proprietor’s
reckoning proved very nearly correct, what error there was being on the
right side. By purchasing potatoes by the bushel and eggs from a farm
instead of at the store Jerry increased his profits so that after every
entertainment he put away two dollars and fifty-eight cents. And no one
who took supper at The Cabin was ever heard to say that he came away
with any unoccupied space! The only thing that kept Jerry Benson from
becoming, according to his idea, fabulously wealthy in a short time was
the fact that a week contained but one Saturday, for he had to refuse
many parties. By the middle of May, not to have taken supper at The
Cabin was almost an indication of social inferiority!