Davy nearly ran down a young lady dashing along with a suitcase and
an umbrella, in a frantic effort to overtake a passing trolley
Fifteen minutes later he was scuttling out to Lexington Avenue. As he was crossing the street, a block or two from the railroad station, he nearly ran down a young lady dashing along with a suitcase, a handbag, and an umbrella, in a frantic effort to overtake a passing trolley.
“Hey, there, hey!” yelled Davy, but the car whizzed right along.
“Oh, dear!” panted the young lady, dropping her suit case. “I’ve lost it, and there won’t be another Fletcher Avenue car for fifteen minutes.” She looked as if about to drop, herself, and Davy involuntarily stretched out a small hand to steady her.
“Thank you,” she gasped. “I do feel a little shaky, running with this heavy luggage. I believe I’ll go around the corner to the drug store and get something hot—provided I can secure a trusty young man to watch my suitcase.” She smiled confidently down into Davy’s honest face. “I’ll be back in ten minutes, in time to catch the next car.”
“Oh, you can trust me, sure!” Davy smiled back. A scout has to be helpful and courteous, especially to people in trouble.
“And you’ll stay right here with it and not let anyone touch it? It contains all my Christmas presents, you see.”
Davy promised with his hand over his badge, but of course she couldn’t see that away under his jacket!
He watched her anxiously as she crossed the street and turned the corner. Then he sat down on one end of the bag, his snow shovel at his feet, and began to consider.
It was now twenty-two minutes after four by the clock in the little tailor shop at his left, and he must meet his appointment at a quarter of five or lose his job. Luckily, he had planned to get there ahead of time—and she would be back in ten minutes—so he’d keep his date all right.