“Let’s us scouts give a dance and a strawberry festival for old Joey,” he said. “We can all of us pick some strawberries, enough for the feed, an’ get our mothers to make cake, an’ Bill Andrus’s father’ll give us the cream from his dairy, an’ the girls’ll help us serve, an’ everybody‘ll come when they know it’s for old Joey, an’ there’ll be two hundred people there, an’ we’ll soak ’em fifty cents, and that’ll clear ’most a hundred bones, an’——”
“And you’d better take in some breath,” laughed Tom, “while I tell you that’s a fine idea. It’s as good as settled now.”
Tom was so sure of the success of the strawberry festival, in fact, that he began at once to consider what they were going to do when they got out West. Here he had to have Mr. Rogers’ help. The scout master wrote some letters, and a week later called Tom into the studio.
“I think I’ve got it,” he said, “that is, if you are willing to work, and don’t care what you do.”
“That’s me, when it’s for old Joey,” Spider declared.
“Well, here’s the proposition. Ever hear of Glacier National Park?”
“I’ve seen some pictures of it in a magazine,” said Tom. “Looked good to me, too!”
“I guess it’s a pretty fine place, though I was never there. It is up in the northwestern part of Montana, on the Great Northern Railroad, and there are two big hotels in the Park, right under the mountains, and some smaller hotels they call chalets, because they are built like Swiss chalets. A friend of mine who is connected with the railroad tells me these hotels, which open late in June, always need bell-boys. They are so far from any cities, or even any towns of any sort, that it’s hard to get labor out there. Now, I guess you could get a job as bellhop all right, though I don’t know whether Joe’s strong enough to work yet. We’d have to ask the doctor first. If he isn’t, my plan would be for you to take your tent along, and two folding cot beds, and get permission to pitch it out in the woods near the hotel. You wouldn’t have any other use for your money out there, so you could probably support Joe all right, and he could do the cooking. He’s a good cook, isn’t he?”
“Sure—the best in the patrol. He’s got a merit badge for cooking, you know.”
“Of course, they might object to having a tuberculous person in the hotel, but if he kept out in the woods, there wouldn’t be any trouble, my friend says. Besides, Joe isn’t a bad case. He’s plainly getting better all the time. I think we can fix it, if you are willing to take the job, and look after him. Being a bellhop isn’t just the job I’d pick out for you, or any boy, if I had the choosing. You have to be a bit of a bootlick, and people will give you tips, which is against all scout rules.”