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?"
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."
"Busy stuffing yourself, I s'pose. Well, you missed a dandy game up at Sherm's. We're going to have another this afternoon."
"Won't the snow-- Say! Why couldn't we play 'Smugglers over the Border,' or something like that? It's just the day for it."
Court's glance swept comprehensively over the snow-covered green and his eyes brightened. "I hadn't thought of that. Now and then you do manage to hit the little black circle, Tommy. Let's hunt up the bunch and see what they say."
The crowd was presently gathered from several different parts of town, and the majority approved of Dale's suggestion. Ranny Phelps and several of his clique had other plans for the afternoon, but Ranny had a habit of frequently failing to take part in the troop doings, unless these were official and gave him a chance to appear in uniform, girded with authority, so his absence was not unexpected.
Immediately after lunch the others betook themselves a mile outside of town, sides were chosen, and the "border" laid out. This consisted of about four hundred yards of a little-used road where the snow had not been much disturbed. This was patrolled by a portion of the "custom inspectors," with a reserve posted farther inland. About half a mile back from the road a deserted barn did duty for the "town."
The smugglers gathered about half a mile on the other side of the border and were allowed to cross it in any formation, singly, together, or scattered, and make for the town at any speed they chose. One only of their number was supposed to be smuggling, and he was equipped with tracking-irons. The moment a sentry patrolling the border caught sight of these tracks, his duty was to signal the fact to the reserve party of inspectors and at once follow the track himself. The reserves coöperated with him, trying by any means to catch the smuggler before he could reach the town. If they succeeded, the game was theirs; but if the smuggler eluded them and reached the barn safely, victory went to the other side.