“Seemed to me you were unconscious about an hour,” Scott said.
“Scotty was the only one who had sense enough to know that you were hurt,” Morgan said. “He dived right in as soon as you went overboard while the rest of us were laughing our heads off.”
Ormand looked his thanks to Scott and shivered again to think how near to death he had been.
In about three hours all the clothes were dried out and Greenleaf consented to let his patient move slowly with two assistants. They made their way to Reeds Landing, which was close by, and took the train back to the city. Their pleasure trip had narrowly escaped a very tragic ending, but even Ormand, after a few days, declared it had been a grand success.
CHAPTER IX
Once more settled into the routine of college work the time passed rapidly. Scott began to wonder what he would do with himself during the Christmas vacation which was now close at hand. He had for some time imagined that some of the fellows who lived near there would take pity on him, a stranger from a distant land, and invite him to spend the holidays with them. He knew he could rely on that at home. But the time was now close at hand and no such invitation had materialized. The reason for it, when he found it out, astonished him more than ever. He found that none of them had any idea of spending that time loafing at home. The senior class was going to the lumber woods the day after Christmas, and all the others, rich and poor alike, were going to work at some job or other.
The thought seemed ridiculous at first, but as he noticed the self-reliance and independence of the men around him and recognized their ability to care for themselves anywhere, at any time, it began to look more reasonable; instead of looking down on them for their eagerness to earn money he began to admire them for their dignity. It occurred to him that it would be a novel experience to try a job for a while himself. He was ashamed to think how ignorant he was of such things and how helpless he should be if he were really suddenly thrown on his own resources where he would have to find a job for himself. Any of his classmates could find a dozen jobs while he was trying to think where to look for one. He was about decided to try his ability to support himself, when this problem, like most of the practical problems which had confronted him since he left home, was settled for him by his roommate.
That young gentleman sauntered into the room one afternoon about three days before the holidays began and seemed to be in a particularly cheerful mood. With considerable show he pulled a strip of paper from his pocket, stretched himself luxuriously in his chair with his feet protruding from under the opposite edge of the table and cleared his throat loudly. “Now, young man,” he began, in as deep a voice as he could command, “what do you intend to do this Christmas vacation? Are you going to work for an honest living or loaf and grow fat ignominiously?”
“Well,” Scott responded, falling in with his humor, “I was going to ask your advice about that, sir.”
“Very good. Then my advice to you is that you work. If you loaf you will have to loaf alone, which will soon become more tiresome than working, unless you want to fall back on your old friends, the millionaires, which would be degrading. Work during the holidays and buy a canoe for Itasca with the earnings. How’s that?”