JAMES FAIRCHILD FINDS LANDSLIDE
ON TRACK AND SIGNALS EXPRESS
TWO HUNDRED PASSENGERS PRAISE PROMPT ACTION
OF TWELVE-YEAR-OLD YOUTH AND SHOW GRATITUDE
BY LIBERAL PURSE OF MONEY
FEARFUL ACCIDENT NARROWLY AVERTED
Kid read no further. He drew a long, long sigh of relief. Then he
looked up at the Doctor.
“I don’t believe there were as many passengers as that,” he stammered.
“No? Well, the papers like to improve on a good story. Now suppose you
tell me just what happened, my boy.”
And so Kid, after a moment’s hesitation, told his story. He didn’t
say that he had started to run away to sea and the Doctor asked no
embarrassing questions; but he told all the rest. And when he had
finished the Doctor said:
“And this ‘liberal purse of money,’ James; may I inquire how much it
amounted to?”
“Seventeen dollars and a half, sir.”
The Doctor chuckled. “Liberal, indeed,” he said. “I agree with you
that the paper’s estimate of the number of passengers is undoubtedly
exaggerated. Otherwise we must suppose that the passengers valued their
lives at something like eight and three-quarters cents apiece, and
that’s a low estimate, isn’t it?”
Kid grinned. “Yes, sir.”
“Still, seventeen dollars is seventeen dollars, and while you, of
course, signaled the train without thinking of any accruing reward,
you are justly entitled to it. I suppose you will――ah――send it home to
your folks. And that reminds me, James. I fully intended writing to
your father last week and informing him how you had so pluckily set to
work to make money. I neglected to do it, though. I was very busy at
the time, and afterwards it slipped my memory. Now, however, I shall
have to write at once. He will be very proud, I’m sure, to learn what
his boy has been doing. We’re proud, too, James. You’re an honor to the
school, sir. Of course, I cannot commend your conduct in disobeying
instructions and leaving your room yesterday. That was wrong, wasn’t
it?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Kid.
“Yes. Still, in view of your subsequent conduct, my boy, we will say no
more about it. Only please remember that heroes obey orders, James.
Will you try to remember that?”
“Yes, sir. And――and please, Doctor, would you mind not saying anything
to my father about――about my earning money, sir?”
“Why――ah――if you feel that way about it, certainly not. But I shall
write him about the rest, James. You don’t object to that, I trust?”
“No, sir; thank you, sir.”
“Yes. Well, that’s all then.” The Doctor shook hands. “Better run along
now. Even heroes have duties, eh?”
Kid withdrew, dazed. The Sword of Damocles which he had imagined
suspended over his head had turned out to be a wreath of laurel!
Instead of a culprit he was a hero! The Doctor had not written to his
father as he had intended and now he had agreed not to. Neither Mrs.
Merton nor Mr. Folsom had, it seemed, acquainted the Doctor with the
real reason of his illness. And, another favor from Fortune, only
one boy, Comstock, a day pupil, had presented his box of Tinkham’s
Throat-Ease for redemption! Kid made his way into the hall with his
head held higher than it had been held for days.
“Io triumphus!” murmured Kid.
And then, just when he was triumphing, his eyes encountered the
long line of bookshelves across the hall and the recollection of
“Hairbreadth Harry” spoiled it all. But there was no time to rescue
that daring adventurer, for the classes had already assembled, and
all Kid could do was to throw a longing look in the direction of the
Encyclopedia Britannica and hurry to the schoolroom.
The fellows in Mr. Crane’s room were in their seats when Kid arrived
at the swinging doors with their oval windows and glanced in. The
instructor’s voice died away, there was a rustling as of a newspaper
being folded and a hum and shuffling of feet from the boys. It was at
that dramatic moment that Kid entered. As the green doors swung to
behind him there commenced a clapping of hands that increased in volume
as he strolled leisurely across the floor toward his seat. Kid was
hoping that Mr. Crane would rebuke him for being tardy so that he might
explain that he had been detained by Doctor Merton and so “have one on
the instructor.” But Mr. Crane didn’t do anything of the sort. Instead
he smiled at Kid and clapped his hands quite as loudly as anyone there.
Now, hand clapping in class room was indulged in only when a visitor
appeared or when, after a baseball or football game, some athletic
hero entered. So, naturally, Kid, wondering, turned to see who had
followed him in. Seeing no one, he looked the surprise he felt, and
laughter began to creep into the _pat, pat_ of hands. And then Kid
realized that Mr. Crane had seen the morning paper, had acquainted the
class, and that the applause was for him, Kid!
All his sang-froid left him and he scuttled for his seat with blushing
cheeks. As he sank into it with all eyes upon him, Small, who was his
neighbor on the right, leaned over, grinning, and clapped his hands
almost under Kid’s nose.
“Aw, cut it out!” muttered Kid with a scowl.
Then, as Small declined to “cut it out,” Kid reached over quickly and
deftly with his foot and kicked Small’s shin. Fortunately, the ensuing
expression of grief from Small was drowned in the diminishing applause.