Boarding schools -- Juvenile fiction; Hockey -- Juvenile fiction; Teenage boys -- Juvenile fiction
He had brought out a roll of bills quite two inches thick. Toby
hesitated, dubious. “Promise not to run?” he asked finally.
“Word of honor, kid!”
“Let him go, Arn.”
“Thank you, gentlemen,” said the man in the brown overcoat ironically.
“Now then, got fifty cents? Here’s your nine dollars.” He peeled off
a five and four ones and Arnold produced a fifty cent piece and the
exchange was made. As Toby slipped the recovered wealth into an inner
pocket the man said: “That’s right, kid. Let me tell you something.
Don’t never carry money in an outside pocket. Leastways, not in this
town! ’Tain’t safe. An’ it’s an awful temptation to fellers like me. So
long, cullies. Good luck!”
“Good-by,” said Toby.
The man in the brown overcoat smiled, winked, pulled his hat to a new
angle and sauntered off and was soon lost to sight in the throng. Toby
drew a deep sigh of relief and satisfaction.
“Jiminy, Arn, I never thought I’d get that back, did you?”
“I never did, Toby. You certainly were lucky. He wasn’t such a bad sort
after all, was he?”
“N――no.” Toby gazed thoughtfully at the busy scene before them. “I dare
say there’s a lot in what he said, Arn. About getting started right,
I mean. I guess lots of folks wouldn’t be dishonest if they’d had the
right sort of――of bringing up, eh?”
“I guess so. Look here, it’s nearly one o’clock! What’ll you do about
buying your presents?”
“I guess it’s too late now.” Toby’s face fell.
“I tell you what we’ll do. We’ll find a telephone and send word we
won’t be home for luncheon, eh? We’ll get a bite to eat somewhere and
then you can shop until nearly three. You can do a lot in two hours.
What do you say?”
“Would you mind? I’d like awfully to do that.”
“Not a bit. It’ll be fun. I know a place near here where we can get
fine eats. Come on!”
But, although Toby came on, when Arnold turned to speak to him a minute
later he wasn’t there. Impatiently Arnold turned back. Toby had paused
a few yards in the rear.
“For the love of mud, Toby, get a move on, can’t you?” exclaimed
Arnold. “What’s wrong now?”
“Nothing,” was the satisfied response. “I only just stopped to see if
my money was still there. I won’t feel really safe until I’ve spent it,
I guess!”
CHAPTER V
CHRISTMAS DAYS
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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