CHAPTER XII
THE TRAP
Old Mr. Crispen was never in very much of a hurry. He had been the cobbler, or shoemaker as most Oakdale folk called him, for many years. But Mr. Crispen no longer made shoes. He only repaired them. And he took his own time about doing that.
If Teddy or any of his chums brought their own shoes, or those of any member of their families, to Mr. Crispen’s shop, they were often told the shoes would be ready in a day or two.
“Next Tuesday or Wednesday,” Mr. Crispen would say as he marked some mysterious characters in chalk on the sole.
But when Tuesday or Wednesday came, nearly always the shoes would not be ready.
“Had more work than I expected,” Mr. Crispen would report. “I’ll have your shoes tomorrow,” he would say, or it might be the next day.
So Teddy and his chums, as well as nearly everyone else in Oakdale, never went for their shoes on the day they were promised. They waited one or two days after that and usually then the shoes would be ready.
So it was no surprise to the deer hunters to hear Mr. Crispen say, after he had fumbled about his bench, counter and shelves:
“Sorry, boys, but those shoes won’t be ready afore tomorrow.”
“But,” said Teddy with a wink at his chums, “we didn’t come here for shoes.”