“Little Billy wanted to stay up when he heard you were coming over later,” he was telling Dick, as he ushered the boys into his library, where his daughter-in-law, Tilly, was seated, doing some sewing at the table.
“I’m sorry he couldn’t,” remarked Dick, shaking hands with the pretty mother of the youngster, and who always had a smile for this boy friend who had done so much to assist her to make peace with Billy’s stern grandfather.
“I have just come downstairs after putting him to bed,” she told Dick. “I wish you could hear him at his prayers. He always insists on remembering you after he mentions his ‘darling mother’ and his ‘grand-daddy.’ You’re Billy’s one hero, Dick. He will never forget how you saved him from the fire,” she added, referring to an incident already related in my previous story.
“Well, he’s a dear little chap, that’s a fact,” remarked the boy, turning red with confusion as he always did when being praised. “But we’ve only stopped in as I promised you I would, Mr. Nocker, to report the poor success we’ve had so far in finding a suitable camp-site.”
The deacon raised his eyebrows, nor could Leslie believe that he looked in the least sorry.
“Tell me how you came out with regard to that site on Lake Marley,” requested the deacon.
“We had news through Doctor Madison that it has been promised to the scout troop over in Emoryville,” Dick went on to say. “So far we seem to be up in the air as to just where we can go. But, of course, we’ll find some place or other.”
“When do you have your next meeting?” asked Mr. Nocker, as the boys prepared to take their departure.
“To-morrow, sir, is the regular night for it,” he was told. “Every one has been asked to pick up any information he can in connection with another camp-site.”
“Well, I certainly hope that you will be successful in finding something to suit you, boys,” the deacon said, as they reached the door. “If I can be of any help, let me know, won’t you?”