The boys were not worrying about such possibilities. They were eager for the coming of warmer weather.
“We’ve had enough of winter this trip,” the Trojan declared, and the others approved the sentiment. Even the Shark fell into line, although he insisted that this winter was doubtless very like other winters, and began to collect statistics to prove his contention. Presently he had some neat tabulations, with averages of snowfall and temperature carried out to four places of decimals, and was devoting a fair share of his leisure to efforts to secure an audience while he pointed out a number of popular errors the figures revealed.
So the days went by, and the weeks, tranquilly enough for the club. Sam was studying hard. Once or twice he “did” a lesson with Varley, being glad of the chance, indeed, to keep in touch with the older boy.
Varley made no reference to his unintentional breach of the rules of the Safety First Club, nor did he give a hint that the Shark had enlightened him about his blunder. Sam appreciated his reticence. Apology would have been awkward for both of them. Varley was taking care to keep away from the club, and ignoring the earlier incident seemed to be the easiest and best way to deal with the situation.
Without coming to intimacy, Sam and Paul got on very well together. Neither sought the other out frequently, but, as has been said, they studied in company now and then, and often strolled along together, when they met on the street. So it came about that Varley was a witness of Sam’s next meeting with the grateful Mrs. Grant, and played his part in bringing about the events which followed that encounter.
A sleigh turning from the beaten track and pulling up beside the deeply buried curb; a beckoning hand; a cheerful voice calling briskly—these were the circumstances under which Sam became aware that speech with him was desired, and recognized Mrs. Grant. Touching his cap, he stepped as near the sleigh as the banks of snow permitted. Much of the old chagrin because of the lady’s effusive and public thanks for his services had worn away; and since the reconciliation with his mates of the club there had been times when he regretted that he had not been more responsive.
Mrs. Grant, plainly, had been on a shopping tour; for the sleigh was piled high with packages. She beamed upon Sam, and stretching out a gloved hand, shook his very heartily.
“Now, this is what I call luck!” she exclaimed. “I was just wondering where I could find you, and then, quick as a wink, there you are! My, but it’s funny how things happen sometimes!”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Sam. “And—er—er—how do you do?”
Mrs. Grant chuckled. “Well, I guess I’m bearing up amazing well, all things considered. And I don’t see as you’re getting puny or peaked yourself.”