It was quite dark before Dale reached home. The return trip had been much harder to make than the one that morning. The holiday was over and there was no spirit of adventure to buoy him up, no consciousness that he was going to be of use to some one who needed him. Also, there was plenty of time to think of the good cheer he had missed at home–that family feast to which, as long as he could remember, they had sat down at three o’clock on Thanksgiving afternoon. It had become so fixed and seemingly immovable that Dale had not even considered the possibility of changing it. And so it was with a tired and lagging step that he walked up from the gate and opened the front door.
Inside, he paused suddenly and sniffed. For an instant he stood stock-still, eyes wide, mouth half open. Then, with a sudden, incoherent exclamation, he tore down the hall, past the lighted dining-room, and through the open kitchen door. The room was warm and bright, and filled with the delicious odor of roasting turkey.
“Mother!” he cried, his face shining. “You didn’t have it– You–you–waited!”
His mother straightened from closing the oven door and smiled at him–that wonderful, indescribable smile that somehow belongs to mothers.
“Of course I waited!” she said quietly. Then, as he leaped forward and clutched her in a bear-hug, she laughed softly and asked, just a little tremulously, “Didn’t you think Father and I could do a good turn, too?”
CHAPTER X
THE SURPRISE
There was no school on the Friday after Thanksgiving, and as soon as Dale had finished his chores he sallied forth to hunt up some of the fellows. A light snow had fallen during the night, but the day was clear and bright and just the sort for a good active game or a brisk hike. As he skirted the north side of the green a shrill yodeling from behind brought the scout around to see Court Parker bearing down upon him, calling out:
“Say, where were you yesterday, anyhow? I didn’t see you all day.”
“I was–busy,” returned Dale, briefly.