Silver Foxes.
“Oh, it will be great!” Westy said, “we’ll do it before Mr. Ellsworth takes up the collection for the cruise, hey?”
“G-o-o-d night!” I said and I stopped short.
“What’s the matter?” Westy said.
“I’m glad you said that,” I told him; “I forgot my two bucks.”
“I’ll go back,” Westy said; “you wait here.” There wasn’t any time to stop him and anyway, he can beat me running, I have to admit that.
“Where did you leave it?” he called back.
“I laid it right on the table,” I shouted, “and I laid an oar-lock on it to keep it from blowing away. Feel around and you’ll get it. Hurry up.”
I saw him going back up the hill for all he was worth and then I sat down beside the road to wait for him. I got to thinking about the house-boat and the fun we’d have cruising up the Hudson and how Skinny would get fat and eat a lot, and especially how he’d stare when he saw Jeb Rushmore. He’s our camp manager, and just wait till you see him, that’s all I say.
But mostly I was thinking about the fun we’d have presenting Skinny to the Elks, and, oh, boy, I could just see Mr. Ellsworth laugh with that funny laugh he has—trying not to. And you can bet I was glad we had Skinny started. Because when a fellow once gets on the trail, he’s a goner. Oh, bibbie, that was going to be some meeting!