Part 10

“I guess you’d better not,” said Kid.

“Humph!” Nan placed the shoes carefully on their sides and as far under the bed as she could reach and there was silence. Finally, “Of course, if you don’t want to tell me, all right,” she observed.

“I will tell you some time,” said Kid. “I can’t now; it――it’s a secret.”

“I won’t breathe a word of it to anyone,” said Nan eagerly.

But Kid, looking important, shook his head. “I’d like to, Nan, honest, but――but I mustn’t now. Some day――――”

“You’ll forget all about it,” she charged.

“No, I won’t. Not likely!” Kid sighed. “A fellow doesn’t forget――such things!”

“What things?”

“Er――like that.”

Nan studied him a moment and Kid stood the ordeal rather well. But Nan wasn’t satisfied. “You just don’t want to tell me,” she said at last. “You could if you wanted to. And I think you might, Kid.”

“Haven’t I told you it’s a secret?” he asked testily. “You don’t expect a fellow to――to go back on his word, do you?”

Nan was silenced for a moment. Then, “Well, is it――is it anything about money?” she questioned.

“Money? What money?” asked Kid evasively.

“The money you owe the boys.”

“Who says I owe them any money?”

“They say so. They say you made them think you needed it because your folks had lost all their money, and then you went down to the village and spent it all on candy and sweets. That Morgan boy says you could be――be persecuted for false pretenses.”

“I never said my folks had lost their money,” denied Kid indignantly. “They――they just thought that themselves. And, anyhow, the tablets were all right and worth the money they paid for them. I can show you heaps of testimonials.”

“Well, they say you ought to take the tablets back and return their money, Kid.”

“I’m willing,” replied Kid instantly, looking quite noble. “Any fellow who has a full box left can come and get his money any time, and you may tell them so from me.”

“But you know very well none of them has a full box, Kid; they’ve all tried them.”

“That’s not my fault. You can’t expect me to――to take back damaged goods, Nan. No one ever does that.”

“I think you ought to,” said Nan sadly.

“And lose money myself?” he asked. “That would be fine, wouldn’t it? Any fellow with a full box――――”

“Oh!”

“What?” asked Kid suspiciously.

Nan smiled. “I――I just thought of something.”

“What is it?” he asked uneasily.

“Why, one of us can donate a box of tablets to the others. There are fifty tablets in each box and no one has eaten more than one of them. That leaves forty-nine――――”

“Oh, if you want to cheat!” said Kid indignantly.

“And those forty-nine would fill all the other boxes, don’t you see?”

Kid saw, but didn’t seem appreciative. “That’s dishonest,” he declared warmly. “And no one but a girl would think of such a――a low, sneaky thing!”

“It’s not nearly so sneaky as getting money to help your family and then spending it on candy!” Nan retorted.

“I didn’t ask for their old money to help my family. I never said there was anything wrong with my family!”

“You must have, Kid. Everyone believed it. Why, papa was talking about it and saying what a fine boy you were to――to try to earn money. And mama was so sorry for your poor mother. And I thought you were a regular hero, like you read of in books. And now you’ve gone and spoiled it all!”

“I never!” muttered Kid. “And, anyhow, if they get their money back again I don’t see what they’ve got to be sore about!”

“You know you can’t pay them back now, Kid; you’ve spent all the money, I guess.”

“I have, have I? That’s all you know about it! I’ve got plenty of money to pay everyone back――if I want to.”

“Where’d you get it, Kid?”

“That’s my affair,” he replied haughtily. “I’ve got it.”

“Is it――is it honest?” she asked anxiously.

“Of course it’s honest! You make me tired, Nan. A girl never knows anything about――about finance, anyway.”

“And you’ll really pay the boys back, Kid?”

“Every one of them. You may tell them so.”

“I will. They’ll be so glad. And――and I’m sure you’ll feel better about it, too.”

Perhaps he would, but he didn’t say so. And after she had gone he tried to figure out in his head how many boxes would be returned and how much his ill-advised and now regretted promise would cost him.

As it happened the first boy Nan encountered was Lanny. Lanny was coming upstairs as Nan was going down and Nan told him at once how willing Kid was to make amends. Lanny hearkened and was struck with a brilliant thought.

“I wouldn’t say anything to any of the fellows about it to-night,” he said. “They――they’d just bother poor Kid, you see, and he isn’t well enough to stand it yet. If I were you, Nan, I’d wait until to-morrow.”

“We-ll,” she hesitated. “All right, Lanny. Don’t you say anything about it, either, will you?”

“No, indeed,” he answered emphatically. “I won’t say a word!”

And he didn’t. What he did do was go up to his room and count his money. Including the fifty cents he had promised to the trophy fund, he possessed exactly ninety-four cents. Luckily for his purpose, it was mostly in dimes and nickels. He put the money in his pocket and hurried downstairs again. Sam Perkins was easily persuaded to give up his box of Tinkham’s Throat-Ease for five cents, but George Waters held out for ten and the deal fell through for the time. Bert wanted to sell, but explained that he hadn’t paid for his box yet and thought he oughtn’t to. Small’s box was short five tablets and he was glad to take a nickel for what remained. By supper time Lanny was the possessor of seven boxes of Throat-Ease for which he had expended the trifling sum of forty cents. (Fearing a rise in the market, he had paid George Waters the price demanded.) After supper he tried to secure more, but the rumor had gone around that Lanny was buying Tinkham’s and the price ascended to ten cents and finally to fifteen. He took over Sewall Crandall’s holdings at ten, and stopped. By that time the market was pretty nearly exhausted and Lanny’s only regret was that he had so foolishly thrown away his own box in a fit of anger. He still had forty-four cents in capital left and he hoped to be able to acquire a few more boxes from day pupils in the morning before it became known that Kid was willing to buy back at the original price. Just to be sure that he wasn’t wasting his money, Lanny popped his head in Kid’s door during the evening. Kid was making an effort to study his Latin. It was something of a come-down from wafting over the sea on the deck of a merchantman to grinding over Latin in bed, and Kid was not happy. He scowled at Lanny’s face in the doorway and told him to “beat it.”

“They say you’re going to do the right thing, Kid,” he observed questioningly, disregarding Kid’s hostility and smiling brightly upon him.

“What right thing?” growled Kid.

“Why, buy back those tablets you sold us.”

“Well, what if I am? That doesn’t concern you, does it? You threw yours away.”

“I know I did. But maybe I found ’em again, Kid.”

“Maybe that’s a whopper! I found them myself and sold them to ‘Toots’ Morgan.”

“You hadn’t any business to; they were mine!”

“You threw them away, didn’t you? And I found them, didn’t I? But if you want a box, Lanny, I’ll sell you one to-morrow for fifteen cents. The price has gone down.” And Kid smiled engagingly.

Lanny returned the smile. “You bet it has!” he agreed. “Good night, Kid.”

Kid stared at the door for a full minute after it had closed. “Now what did he mean by that?” he asked himself crossly. “He always talks that way when he’s up to some mean trick!”

Of course everyone wanted to know why Lanny was buying up Tinkham’s Throat-Ease and Lanny’s replies were so far from satisfactory that he spent a most unpleasant evening. In the morning he was around bright and early, waiting for the day scholars to appear, but Nan was earlier. Lanny managed to make only two purchases at five cents a box before the news got around that Tinkham’s Throat-Ease was quoted at twenty-five cents. Waters found Lanny and offhandedly offered him twelve cents for the return of his box.

“I guess I’d better keep them, Lanny,” he said. “I might have a cold any time, you see. They’re nasty, but I guess they’re good for you. What do you say? Got my box with you?”

Lanny grinned. “Price has gone up, George, since you sold. They’re worth twenty-five this morning.”

Waters expressed his opinion of Lanny at some length, but Lanny didn’t wait to hear it all. He wanted to find Kid. It didn’t seem plausible to him that Kid had enough money on hand to redeem all the Tinkham’s that would be offered, and he wanted to get there early. But Kid was elusive. Sam Perkins didn’t know where Kid was and offered Lanny ten cents for the box of tablets he had sold the evening before for five. Lanny expressed his regrets and hurried away. The word that followed him sounded very much like “Cheat!” Not discovering Kid indoors, Lanny dashed outside.

“He’s hiding,” he muttered. “He doesn’t want to pay up!”

That, however, was not quite the true explanation of Kid’s absence from his usual haunts. To be sure, Kid did not want to “pay up,” but he was not hiding. He was facing Dr. Merton in the latter’s office, whither he had been summoned a few minutes before. No, Kid wasn’t hiding, but he wished he were!

XVI

KID FINDS HIMSELF FAMOUS

“Ah, Fairchild, Doctor Merton would like to see you in the office, please.”

Mr. Crane looked at Kid so peculiarly as he gave the message that had the latter entertained any doubt as to the reason for the summons such a doubt would have been instantly dispelled. Kid experienced a sinking of the heart as he muttered “Yes, sir,” and turned toward the Doctor’s sanctum. Well, it had to be faced! Probably the Doctor had had a reply to that letter and the worst had come. It was all well enough to tell Nan that he hadn’t said a word about his people losing their money, but the story wouldn’t serve with the Doctor, who drew a very fine line between truth and falsehood, and who maintained that an untruth could be implied as well as spoken. Kid’s feet dragged all the way to the office, and when he was outside the door, which happened to be closed, he stood there for several moments listening to the loud and irregular thumping of his heart and wishing ever so hard for the deck of that merchantman! Then he summoned his courage and knocked. And then, in response to a cheerful “Come in!” he opened the door and entered.

The Doctor was seated at his broad-topped desk, a shiny mahogany desk it was, piled high with books and papers and all sorts of business-like objects; in short, a desk to dispel the last particle of assurance in the culprit. But Kid, with a supreme effort, summoned the cherub-look to his countenance and faced his fate.

The Doctor, who was reading the Whittier _Standard_, laid aside the paper and looked across the desk at Kid. There was nothing formidable in that look. Rather it was friendly and smiling, and Kid would have taken courage had he not known that the Doctor possessed a disconcerting habit of smiling before he smote. Kid’s round blue eyes gazed innocently at the Doctor.

“You――you sent for me, sir?” he asked in a wee small voice.

“Yes, James.” The Doctor’s smile vanished and he frowned portentously across the litter of books and papers. “Sit down, please.” He nodded at a chair, and Kid, wondering, seated himself on the edge of it. Never before had he been invited to seat himself in the Doctor’s office. Plainly the interview was to be both protracted and painful! “Well, sir,” continued the Principal, “and what’s this you’ve been doing?”

Kid tried to retain his look of cherubic innocence, but it faded away and he lowered his head.

“I――I――nothing, sir, if you please.”

“Nothing! So you call it nothing, do you? I should say it was a good deal. Do you perform these brilliant feats very often, James?”

“No, sir,” murmured Kid miserably. “And I won’t ever do it again, sir.”

To his surprise the Doctor went off into a peal of laughter. Kid looked and stared. Of course the laughter was ironic, but it didn’t sound so. Was it possible that the Doctor was going to view the affair in its humorous aspect? Kid found courage to grin faintly.

“Won’t ever do it again, eh?” chuckled the Doctor finally. “Well, I guess that is so. You probably will never have the chance, James.”

Kid’s heart stopped beating for an instant. Expelled! He was to be sent home! What would his father say? And his mother? The tears began to creep up toward his eyes; he felt them coming. And he didn’t care!

“No, one doesn’t have an opportunity to do a thing like that more than once, James,” went on the Doctor, smiling that peculiar smile. “In fact, James, a good many of us never have the chance to be a hero even once. Or perhaps we see the chance and miss it, eh?”

Kid stared bewilderedly.

“I suppose your modesty kept you from speaking of the incident, James? Well, modesty is very becoming in a hero, my boy. And if I am to judge by what the paper tells me you were undoubtedly a hero. How does it feel to be a hero, James?”

Kid’s mouth was wide open but no sound came from it.

“Embarrassing, is it?” the Doctor laughed. “Well, I’ll spare your blushes. Maybe, though, you’d like to see what the _Standard_ has to say about you?” The Doctor picked the paper from the corner of the desk and held it out. Kid took it mechanically and his eyes followed the direction of the Doctor’s finger. But for a moment he saw nothing. Then, quite suddenly, the black type leaped at him and he was reading the headlines:

BOY HERO SAVES MANY LIVES

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.

XVII

A DONATION TO THE FUND

After school Kid had to tell all about it. By that time he had grown used to being a hero and every time he narrated his adventure the story improved in interest. Mr. Folsom and Mr. Crane had shaken hands with him, Nan had become his admiring and willing slave and Mrs. Merton had beamed upon him. No wonder that his head had become a little bit turned, then. And no wonder――considering Kid’s healthy imagination――that by the time he got to the fifth or sixth rendition of the story his heroism had attained marvelous proportions.

“You said you only ran about a quarter of a mile,” objected Small.

Kid viewed him untroubledly. “Only about a quarter of a mile to the end of the cut,” explained Kid. “After that it was a good quarter of a mile to where the train stopped.”

“Shut up, Small,” censured Ben Holden. “Don’t you suppose Kid knows how far he had to run?”

“Yes,” chimed in Steve Lovell, “who saved the train, anyhow? Then what happened, Kid?”

“Then,” continued Kid, warming to his work, “I saw that they were going to stop and I sank exhausted at the side of the track.”

“It was lucky you had that red sweater,” said Billy Spooner. “Red’s the danger color, you know.”

“Sure I know! Don’t you think I thought of that?” demanded Kid witheringly. “And that’s funny, too, fellows. Something told me to put that sweater on when I went out. I didn’t need it, for it was real warm yesterday, but something seemed to whisper to me ‘Put on your red sweater! Put on your red sweater!’ And I did, and I was pretty glad afterwards, you can bet!”

“What happened when the train stopped?” asked Lanny.

“Why, the engineer leaned out of the engine and said ‘What’s the matter, Kid?’ and I――――”

“How did he know your name?” asked Small suspiciously.

Kid shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he replied, “but that’s what he said. Then I said ‘There’s been a slide in the cut and if you go on you’ll be ditched.’ Then he said ‘Good Heavens!’ just like that; ‘Good Heavens!’ And then the conductor came running up and I told him and he shook my hand and said I’d saved many lives――three hundred, I think it was――――”

“The paper said only two hundred,” Small objected.

“Oh, papers never get things right,” said Ben. “Shut up, Small, and let him tell it.”

“And after that,” continued Kid, “I got on the train and told them to go slow and when we got to the place the fireman got a shovel and we went to where the dirt was on the rails and we shoveled it off. Of course, by that time everyone in the train had heard about it and they all came out of the cars and insisted on shaking hands with me and being silly. Then a gentleman suggested taking up a collection and they did it. I told them I hadn’t done anything much and wouldn’t accept a reward, but they insisted――――”

Small here interrupted the narrative by a fit of choking and had to be thumped on the back by Sam Perkins. Kid viewed him suspiciously and finally went on with increased dignity.

“After the track was clear we went on to Mt. Pleasant and the gentleman who had started the collection made a speech and presented the money to me. Of course, I wasn’t going to take it――――”

Small had a relapse and again interrupted proceedings.

“But they all insisted and put the money into my pockets. I didn’t have any say about it at all. And then――then they gave a cheer and we――we got into the station and I sneaked off in a hurry because I’d heard them saying something about introducing me to the president of the railroad.”

“The president doesn’t live in Mt. Pleasant, does he?” asked Sewall Crandall.

“I don’t know. Perhaps he happened to be there yesterday, though,” replied Kid. “They travel around a good deal, you know.”

“How much money did you drag out of it?” asked Small.

Kid frowned. “They _presented_ me with a liberal reward,” he answered with much dignity. “I haven’t had time to count it yet, but I guess it won’t amount to over a hundred.”

“Phe-ew!” Small whistled expressively and eyed Kid with envy. Then, “But I thought you said before it was only about fifty, Kid?” he said.

“Well, as I say, I haven’t counted it yet. Maybe it will be nearer fifty than a hundred. I’d much rather they hadn’t given me anything. I――I only did my duty, you know.”

“It’ll be quite a feather for the school,” remarked Ben. “I hope the Maplewood fellows will read about it. They think over there since they’ve got an ex-President’s son that they’re the whole thing! I haven’t heard of _him_ getting out and saving any lives!”

After the group had broken up Lanny followed Kid over toward the bookcase, whither the latter’s steps led him every now and then.

“When are you going to take back the tablets, Kid?” he asked carelessly.

Kid turned with an abstracted, far-away expression. “What tablets do you mean, Lanny?”

“Why the Tinkham’s, of course. You said you’d pay back a quarter for every box returned, didn’t you?”

“Did I?” Kid reflected deeply. “Perhaps I did. So much has happened――――”

“You said so just last night,” insisted Lanny with annoyance. “Aren’t you going to?”