"It means that you're going to get a Christmas present from Laura,"
Dave answered.

"But I never had a present from a girl before!"

"Most anything is likely to happen," laughed Dave, "now that you're
a sophomore---and a reporter, too."

"Thank goodness I'm earning a little money now," murmured Dick,
breathing a bit rapidly. "But, say, Dave!"

"Well?"

"What on earth does one give a girl at Christmas?"

"Tooth-powder, scented soap, ribbons---oh, hang it! I don't know,"
floundered Dave hopelessly. "Anyway, I don't have to know. It's
your scrape, Dick Prescott!"

"Yours, too, Dave Darrin!"

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I saw Belle buying some of that yarny stuff, too."

"Great Scott!" groaned Dave. "Say, what do you suppose they're
planning to put up on us for a Christmas job? Some of those
big-as-all-outdoors, wobbly, crocheted slippers?"