When Dick went away he said to himself, "'Poor folks,'--they're all that. I wish something could be done for them."
Dave made his call, and he left the house saying, "Something must be done."
The two callers met in the street the day of Dave's call, and the same thought was in their minds.
"Dick, see here. Those Traftons are real poor," said Dave. "I wonder if we couldn't get them a little something for Christmas."
"Dave, that very thought was in my mind, and I wanted to speak of it. Come on. It's done."
Hardly done; but that was Dick's way, and when a soul may be timid and discouraged, that confident, self-assured style in another is very strengthening.
"Let's see. There is no other way than to go right round and ask our friends. I know they will give something, Dick."
"Hold on, hold on, Dave. That is a slow way, Let's make a dash and capture the enemy at once. I will pick out some millionaire--"
Here Dick turned round as if to see which "millionaire" he would select from all of Shipton's wealthy residents.
"Yes," he continued; "I will look after that. Don't you give yourself a moment of uneasiness on that score. I will pick out some rich fellow, tell him what he ought to do, and bag the game on the spot. There!"