"I haven't got time to joke, dad," objected the boy, dropping into a chair. "But I've got something very particular that I want you to do for me, and it will make Christmas really jolly after all if you can do it."
Then Dick unfolded his plan, while Mr. Prescott looked uneasy.
"Why, Dick, my boy, if Dalzell's parents don't want him to go camping it would look very strange in me to call on them and urge them to exchange their own good judgment for mine. It would look like an impertinence on my part. Dan's father and mother are the very best judges as to whether he should be allowed to go away several days camping. In fact, although I've consented to it, I'm not sure that I have shown the best kind of judgment in the matter."
"Oh, I don't want you to urge the Dalzells very hard, dad. I'm not just asking that. But I think, if you talk it over with them, perhaps——"
"It's a queer bit of business for me," remarked Mr. Prescott.
"But will you go, Dad? Please."
"Yes," agreed Mr. Prescott very reluctantly.
"Can you—can you just as easily go soon, dad?"
"Ye-es. I'll go now. It's such a queer piece of business that I shall be thankful when I have it over with."
"And you'll say the best word you can think of, won't you?"