Chapter XX: The School Gives Support

“Glad you didn’t give us pie, too!” said Joe fervently, “But what’s the big idea, Jerry? Going into the restaurant business?”

“Sort of,” answered the host. “Way I figured it’s this. The fellers don’t have much chance to spend their money around school. Of course they can go to Annapolis, and now and then they can get up to Baltimore, but there ain’t――isn’t any place around school where they can buy cake or pie or candy and――and blow their money. Well, if they could make up a party of half a dozen, maybe, and come out here on a Saturday night and have a good feed and sit around by the fire, why, seems to me a lot of them would like to do it.”

“You bet they would!” asserted Wayne. “And I’ll guarantee to make up the first crowd, Jerry!”

“Ham and eggs and sweet potatoes and coffee, and maybe a wedge of pie, would be about all they’d get, but they’d be hungry when they got here, I reckon, same as you fellers were. I figure I can feed six fellers for seventy-five cents apiece and make a little money doing it. And I’d like it, too. I like being out here and I like to cook things. That’s one reason I asked you fellers.” Jerry grinned. “I wanted testimonials from you-all.”

“Well, you can sure have one from me,” said Joe. “I think it’s a corking scheme, boy, and if Wayne doesn’t let me come with his bunch I’ll get up a crowd of my own!”

“Just Saturday nights, Jerry?” asked Tom.

“Yes. I couldn’t do it more’n once a week, Tom. Wouldn’t have time. And Saturday looks like the best day, don’t it?”

“There’s just one trouble with the scheme,” said Wayne sadly. “Faculty will get onto it and put its foot down. Faculty loves putting its foot down on our innocent amusements, Jerry.”

“’Tain’t going to put no foot down on this,” replied Jerry, substituting earnestness for grammar. “First thing I done――did was see Doctor Heidler, and he said I could do it. Said he thought ’twas a fine idea. Only――er――only restriction he made was that the fellers would have to be back by nine o’clock. He was mighty nice about it.”

“You win!” said Wayne. “Book me and five others for next Saturday night, Jerry.”

“Am I in?” asked Joe anxiously. “’Cause if I’m not――――”

“Sure! And you, too, Tom, if you’ll come.”

“Glad to, thanks,” replied Tom. “But what are you going to do with all the money you make, Jerry?”

“I ain’t aiming to make such a heap,” said Jerry soberly. “You see, things are pretty high――――”

“That’s the way they all talk,” sighed Tom, “from Broadway to――to North Bank, Maryland!”

“I’m figuring I can clear about two dollars and a half off a party of six fellers. What I make I got a good use for, Tom.”

“Bet you’re going to buy an automobile,” laughed Joe.

But Jerry shook his head gravely. “I――I’ve got a use for it,” he said.

“Hope you make a pile,” said Wayne heartily. “And I’ll advertise the scheme all I know how.”

“Me, too,” said Joe. “How would it do if I stuffed a pillow under my sweater to-morrow, and then, when fellows asked me how I got so fat, tell them I’d eaten supper out here? By the way, what are you calling the place, Jerry?”

“Just ‘The Cabin,’ I reckon. Sounds all right, don’t it?”

“I’ll say so. Of course you might pick on something more fancy, like――like ‘Forest Inn’ or ‘Bensonhurst-in-the-Woods’ or――――”

“‘The Ham-and-Eggery,’” finished Tom. “Shut up, Joke, ‘The Cabin’ is the best. If I were you, Jerry, I’d put up a notice in the Hall.”

“That’s the idea!” agreed Wayne. “‘Eat at The Cabin! Ham and Eggs a la Jerry!’ Say, let’s work up a poster, fellows! Got a piece of paper, Joe?”

Joe hadn’t, but Jerry found a paper bag and smoothed it out, and Wayne pushed the empty dishes from a corner of the table and moistened the tip of a pencil. Then he looked around inquiringly. “What’s the catch line?” he demanded.

“‘Dine in the Woods,’” offered Tom.

“’Tain’t dinner,” objected Jerry. “It’s supper.”

“That’s so,” Wayne agreed. “How would this do? ‘The Cabin Calls You!’”

“Not bad,” said Tom. “Seems to me, though, there ought to be something about eats in the top line. You know how fellows are, Wayne.”

“Reckon that’s so. ‘Sup at The Cabin?’ That doesn’t quite get it, does it? Sup is a punk word. Wait a second!” Wayne frowned intently and then began to write. Joe, looking over his shoulder, nodded applaudingly. Finally, Wayne read the result:

HAVE YOU HAD SUPPER AT THE CABIN?

If you Haven’t you’ve Missed a Treat! Ham-and-Eggs
and Sweet Potatoes, Coffee and Pie, Cooked
on a Camp Stove and Eaten Camp Fashion
Right in the Woods! Parties of Six
Accommodated on Saturday Nights.

ALL YOU CAN EAT FOR SEVENTY-FIVE
CENTS. GET IN LINE, FELLOWS!

Make your Reservations Now with Benson,
7 Baldwin House

“Swell!” declared Joe. “That’ll make their mouths water, I’ll bet! What do you say, Jerry?”

“Reckon it couldn’t be any better,” said Jerry gratefully. “I’m powerful much obliged, Wayne.”

“There’s just one objection that I can see,” said Tom.

“Oh, of course you’d find something wrong,” scoffed Joe. “What is it?”

“Well, I think it would be a good idea, in view of the fact that Joke will be here next Saturday, to scratch out that about ‘All you can eat for seventy-five cents.’ Anybody knows that you can’t give Joke all he can eat for any such price!”

“You dry up and blow away,” grumbled Joe, amidst laughter.

“Aside from that, though, you think it’s all right, Tom?” asked Wayne.

“Corking! Joe’s rather a dabster with a pen. Let him make a real poster.”

“All right! And I say!” Joe snapped his fingers excitedly. “We ought to have a picture of the cabin on it! Who’s got a camera?”

“I have,” said Wayne, “and that’s a peachy idea! Tell you what, Jerry, you and I’ll come out to-morrow and get two or three shots at it. Then we’ll take the film over to Annapolis Monday and have the fellow over there make some prints. He ought to do it in a day or so if we tell him we’re in a hurry.”

“We’ll all come out to-morrow,” said Tom. “I’ve got a camera myself somewhere. I haven’t used it for an age, and I’ll shoot a couple, too, and we can use the best of the lot. I’ll just bet you, Jerry, that this thing goes great! It’s a shame you didn’t find the place sooner, though, for there aren’t many Saturdays left.”

“Eight more after to-day,” said Jerry. “Maybe if fellers like it I can go on with it next fall.”

“Sure,” said Joe. “By the way, though, it would be a beastly sell if the fellow who owns it came back and put you out!”

“Well, I asked Doctor Heidler about that. He didn’t know who built it, but he said the land belongs to some real estate company over to Washington and that they ain’t likely to care if I use the Cabin. Reckon whoever built it is moved away from here and ain’t likely to come back. Hope he don’t, neither, because I feel like it was my own now.” And Jerry’s gaze wandered almost affectionately about the little lantern-lighted room.

“Oh, you’re safe enough, I guess,” said Tom. “Say, what about that fire out there?”

Joe leaned back and looked through the open door. “It’s out,” he reported. “Anyway, we wouldn’t have time for it to-night, I guess.” He glanced at his watch and whistled. “For the love of faculty, fellows! It’s twenty-two minutes past eight! Here, let’s get at the dishes and beat it for school!”

“You don’t need to bother about the dishes,” said Jerry. “I’m aiming to come out some day and tidy up.”

“Nonsense,” declared Wayne. “We aren’t going to leave you with this mess. Shove me a lantern, Tom, and I’ll fetch some water. I know the way. You fellows get the table cleared.”

Twenty minutes later they passed out and Jerry turned the key in a new padlock. Then, with the aid of one of the lanterns, which Jerry cached at the end of the trail, they made their way out of the woods and soon were swinging along at a lively pace toward the school, Joe and Tom volunteering as an impromptu glee club and Jerry and Wayne walking together behind rather silently. They were silent partly because conversation would have been difficult with Tom declaring in bass and Joe in tenor that

“’Twas a fine day in the early spring,
The trees were green and ev’rything,
The birds were singing here and there
And the atmosphere was full of air!”

And partly they were silent because Wayne had eaten heartily and was filled with contentment and Jerry was too busy laying plans to insure the success of his enterprise to do much talking.

The next afternoon, armed with three cameras, for Joe, not to be outdone, had borrowed one for the occasion, the four returned to The Cabin. (We might as well follow Jerry’s lead and capitalize it, too!) Much good film was wasted, as was afterward proved, especially as Joe was not acquainted with the instrument he brought and consequently didn’t discover until too late that the lens was blinded by a cute little round stopper. Joe, having caught the picture in the finder, was quite satisfied and took six perfectly wonderful views of The Cabin. At least, we will presume that they were wonderful. There was nothing to prove otherwise when a perfectly empty strip of film was developed! Tom and Wayne, however, had better success, and the print that adorned the top of Joe’s poster two days later, one of Wayne’s, by the way, showed a most attractive and picturesque old hut steeped in sunshine and laced with the shadow-tracery of the overhanging trees. In front, by the open door, stood three boys. One held a frying pan, one a coffeepot and the other the major portion of a large ham, and each had tried his best to look as if he had recently supped to repletion. Unfortunately, since the picture was small, such detail as the latter was missing. For that matter, no one could have identified any of the three in the photograph. One, the figure at the extreme left, was slightly blurred owing to the fact that Joe had attempted to caress Tom with the frying pan at the instant that Wayne’s fingers pressed the bulb.

But the photograph was a success, and so, most assuredly, was the poster, and its appearance on the notice board in Founders’ Hall Tuesday evening created quite a sensation. In something under an hour it was known throughout school that the poster wasn’t a hoax; that Jerry Benson, for the trifling sum of seventy-five cents――trifling, at least, if you had it or could borrow it――guaranteed to fill you quite full of ham and eggs and other perfectly delectable viands; and that if you wanted to get in on the fun you had to speak quick since the next two Saturday nights were already engaged!

The latter statement was no more than the truth, for in less than half an hour after the poster appeared Lory Browne, having listened to a glowing account of The Cabin and the brand of entertainment to be had there from Joe, had sought Jerry and secured the Saturday after next. To anticipate, since other things than Jerry’s catering enterprise must claim attention, the first few days saw the success of The Cabin assured. Every Saturday night was bespoken. And the proprietor’s reckoning proved very nearly correct, what error there was being on the right side. By purchasing potatoes by the bushel and eggs from a farm instead of at the store Jerry increased his profits so that after every entertainment he put away two dollars and fifty-eight cents. And no one who took supper at The Cabin was ever heard to say that he came away with any unoccupied space! The only thing that kept Jerry Benson from becoming, according to his idea, fabulously wealthy in a short time was the fact that a week contained but one Saturday, for he had to refuse many parties. By the middle of May, not to have taken supper at The Cabin was almost an indication of social inferiority!