MR. NOCKER SPRINGS A SURPRISE
“Here we are again, right side up with care!” remarked Dan Fenwick on
the following night, as he burst into the meeting-room of the handsome
Y. M. C. A. building, accompanied by two other lads almost as noisy as
himself.
“And it looks as if we might have a cracking good crowd here to-night,”
added Elmer Jones, as he glanced around at the numerous occupants of
the chairs. “Here’s our new member, Humbert Loft, the nephew of our
high-brow town librarian who wanted us to read nothing but classics and
the dead languages, instead of splendid stories for boys written by our
favorite authors.”
“Yes, but who got beautifully left in the lurch when we started our own
circulating library, every book of which has had the approval of Mr.
Holwell, and is both clean and uplifting,” observed Peg Fosdick, who
made the third of the trio of newcomers.
“I understand,” Dan went on to say, exultantly, “there are more than a
hundred and thirty volumes on hand now, and Leslie’s Uncle Henry has
promised us another batch just as soon as he can run down to the city
and look them all over, to be sure they are of the right sort.”
“There are three of the mill boys here to-night--Eddie Grant, Ban
Jansen and Cub Mannis,” whispered Elmer. “I know Dick will be glad of
that, and Mr. Holwell too, because they get around so seldom. Eddie
said one night that they were usually too tired out after their work.”
“Mr. Holwell says he is more interested in getting those fellows here
than in any of the rest of us,” Dan remarked, confidentially.
“Oh, that’s something everybody knows!” exclaimed Elmer. “He says we’ve
got good homes, and are under the right kind of influence; but Eddie
and his crowd live in the slums, as you might say, and their only
place at nights is on the street corners or in saloons. It was largely
to keep them from temptation that Mr. Holwell first considered this
addition to the regular Y. M. C. A.”
“I understand that some of the mill hands are taking a
vacation--against their will,” observed Dan. “You see, every summer the
company picks out a week or so to clean up, and, of course, lay a part
of their force off. Now, like as not the boys have heard of our going
off on an outing, and hope to be able to join the crowd.”
“Say, I hope they do!” declared Elmer. “Those three fellows are all
right; and for one I’d like to know more of them. Yes, I’d be glad if
they could go along.”
“The only trouble,” continued Dan, “would be that it will cost us so
much a head to have a week or two in the woods. Some of these fellows
need every cent they earn; and that might prevent them from going
along.”
“Just leave all that to Mr. Holwell,” replied Elmer, confidently. “He’s
the one to think up some scheme to open the way. There come Dick and
Leslie. I must say nobody looks extra gay to-night. See how they all
fix their eyes on Dick, just as if they expected him to be a magician
and haul a camp-site from his bag as the magicians used to pull out
rabbits and such things.”
The meeting was soon called to order by Mr. Bartlett, who again put
Dick in charge. After the roll had been gone over the regular business
was taken up. Plainly every boy was nervous, for all paid less
attention to ordinary matters than customary.
“You see, every one wants to get down to that camping business,”
whispered Dan to his nearest neighbor on the left, who happened to be
the mill hand, Eddie Grant. “They’re hoping Dick has got wind of a
place where all of us can go for ten days or so.”
Eddie Grant sighed.
“I reckon it’s going to be too rich a treat for the likes of some of
us fellers,” he remarked also in a whisper. Dan could easily catch
the shade of bitter disappointment in his manner, showing that the
mill boys had been hugging a hope to their hearts that a way might be
provided whereby they could accompany the others of the Y. M. C. A.
boys on their outing.
When finally the ordinary routine of business had been brought to a
hurried conclusion Elmer Jones was on his feet with a motion.
“I move, Mr. President,” he said, with a broad smile, “that we proceed
to the most important matter that engages our attention just now and
hear the report of the committee appointed to find a camp-site for the
club.”
“Second the motion!” exclaimed Phil Harkness. “Although there’s little
need of it,” he went on, “because hearing the report of any committee
comes under the head of business.”
Dick knew the boys were anxious to learn whether he had met with
success. He hated to disappoint them, but it seemed as though nothing
else could be done.
“I took a whole lot of my time to-day running around, making inquiries
of different people who might know of something we could get,” he
announced. “But so far there’s nothing in sight worth having. Mr.
Truesdale said he wouldn’t object if we camped in his woods as long as
we behaved, and didn’t leave any fires burning when we went away from
camp. But you all know the Truesdale woods, boys.”
“Poor place, where they used to have the Sunday School picnics some
years,” ventured one boy. There was a look of disgust on his face as he
spoke, as though he were thinking it would be much too tame for them to
spend a whole week on the spot where children came to picnic.
“And too near town besides,” added Dan Fenwick. “When we camp out it’s
got to be far away from home, and in a regular wilderness. That’s what
makes it feel like the real thing. Huh! I’d as soon put up a tent in
our back yard, and stick it out there for a week, as go to that old
Truesdale wood.”
Dick laughed at the vigor of these replies, though he had fully
anticipated hearing something of the sort.
“Perhaps some one else has had the good luck to get track of a place,”
he went on to remark. “If so, don’t be backward about coming forward.
We’d like to hear what you’ve done, even if it was only to meet with
disappointment as I did.”
Clint Babbett jumped to his feet, saying:
“I tackled ever so many people during the day, and had two places
offered to me, but on conditions we couldn’t think of accepting. One
of these, would you believe it, came from a woman who insisted that
we build no fires while in camp, as she would do what cooking was
necessary.”
At that a shout went up, nor did the chairman attempt to quell it,
for he, too, was shaking with laughter, as was also the amused Mr.
Bartlett, sitting near by.
“What d’you think of that, now?” cried Dan Fenwick. “Camping out for
a whole week, and not allowed to light even one fire to sit around in
the evenings! Say, I can see twenty hungry fellows marching up to that
woman’s door three times a day for a cold hand-out!”
“She’d get sick of her bargain in no time. She’d find we’d eat her out
of house and home,” laughed Peg Fosdick.
“There’s no doubt,” interrupted Dick, seriously, “but the woman
thought she was giving us boys a big help, but it only goes to show
how little some women know what a boy’s heart hungers for. It takes a
man to understand a boy, my mother says. Why, even girls in these days
wouldn’t stand for that sort of camping out.”
Several others got up to tell how they had prosecuted an earnest
search, but absolutely without success. No one seemed to know of a
suitable site for a boys’ camp within a reasonable distance of town.
As the chances grew less encouraging, some of the boys began whispering
among themselves. It really looked as though the plan on which they had
set their hearts would have to be given up.
Dick was holding the meeting from being adjourned, though Leslie could
not see the sense of further discussion, since no one had been able
to offer any real hope of success. Still, had any one watched Dick
closely, he would have discovered that the acting chairman cast many
anxious glances toward the door of the room, and that his nervousness
was really taking on the form of keen disappointment.
Then it came to pass that the door was quietly opened and some one
slipped into the room. No one but Dick saw him enter, for all were
engaged just then in a warm discussion as to whether it might not be
wise to accept the kindly meant offer of Mr. Truesdale, and make the
best of it.
Dick smiled now, as though a heavy load had been taken from his mind.
Certain suspicions he had allowed himself to entertain were evidently
in a fair way of becoming actual realities.
It was no other than Deacon Nocker who had so silently entered. He
stood listening to what was being said for and against the Truesdale
woods. Dick could see the smile on his thin face, and he noticed the
way he kept nodding his head as he followed the arguments advanced.
“I guess it’s as good as settled,” was what Dick was telling himself;
though, in reality, he had no means of knowing what kind of offer Mr.
Nocker was going to make to the boys of the Y. M. C. A. to whom he owed
so much happiness.
“Allow me to say a few words, boys,” remarked the deacon, presently, at
which there was a craning of necks, and many eager looks cast in his
direction. “Most of you may not know that I own all the land around
Lake Russabaga, including a famous camp-site on Bass Island. I’ve come
here to-night to make you an offer, which pleases me much more than
it can any of you. Now, if the proper arrangements can be made for
transportation, and your parents are willing you should go so far from
home, I want the Y. M. C. A. boys to camp up there on the prettiest
lake in the whole State. I hope you’ll accept my offer, which comes
direct from my heart!”