Then everybody crowded around Mabel. Mrs. Bennett was about to kiss her, but desisted just in time.
"Mabel!" she cried, as Jean had done. "Are you burned?"
"No," mumbled Mabel, indignantly. "I'm not even singed. I—I just came out through the coal hole, but you needn't tell. That horrid Janitor dragged me out over a whole mountain of coal."
"Thank Heaven!" breathed Mrs. Bennett.
"Huh!" snorted Mabel, "that's a mighty queer thing to thank Heaven for, when it was only last night that I had a perfectly good bath. That's the meanest Janitor——"
"Where is he?" demanded Dr. Bennett, eagerly. "I must thank him."
"Yes," said Mrs. Bennett, "I must thank him too."
"And I," said Dr. Tucker, "should like to shake hands with him."
And would you believe it! Not a soul had a word of praise for Mabel's bravery. Not a person commended her for saving that precious purse. Instead, the local paper devoted a whole column to lauding the prompt action of that sickening Janitor, Dr. Bennett gave him a splendid gold watch, the School Board recommended him for a Carnegie medal—all because of the dust-chute.