We went off down-town. Mark suggested it. I guess he wanted to give the people a chance to look at him. He was a great fellow that way, and always wanted all the glory that could be got out of anything. I don’t know as there is anything funny about that, because I sort of liked to have men stop when we went past and whisper and point after us; and it was all right to have other kids you knew stand back, awed-like, and watch you as if you had just come back from the middle of Africa. I tell you we were some folks, Mark and me.
All that day we loafed around and told the story. I wish it could have lasted always, for we were treated like we were all Presidents of the United States come on a visit. Folks were so good to us that I was sick that night. It was that way everywhere we went. The grocer called us in to tell him about it, and told us to help ourselves; there was a crowd in the drug store, and Smiley set out a dish of candy. Everywhere we ate and ate and ate, which was all right for Mark, because he was used to it and had room to put it all; but after a while I got full and couldn’t cram down another thing. It was enough to make a fellow mad, with all sorts of things to eat and no place to put them.
Uncle Ike was quite a hero, too. He told his part of it a hundred times, and got us to ride back and forth in his bus with him just to show how intimate we were. He was a little jealous of Zadok Biggs, but Biggs was so good-natured and so full of admiration for Mark that Uncle Ike couldn’t get up a grudge; and before night they were friends for life, as Zadok would say.
The story spread around the country, and in the afternoon farmers began coming in. Of course, they had excuses for coming, but we knew, and everybody else knew, they just came to see us and hear all about it. I guess there isn’t a more curious and inquiring part of the country than ours.
With all of it we were pretty tired by night, and pretty well satisfied with ourselves, too. Who wouldn’t be? Hadn’t we really done something? And didn’t the people show they were proud of us? Well, then, why shouldn’t we be swelled up a little?
Once, early in the day, some of the men talked about getting up a crowd and going after Henry C. Batten and Bill; but they didn’t make a go of it, and it isn’t likely they would have caught them, anyhow.
On the way home to supper we met Zadok Biggs on his wagon. He stopped and called to us.
“Marcus Aurelius,” says he, “it is my desire—wish—to meet your parents. I shall consider it an honor and a distinction. I shall go with you and meet your parents—the parents of Marcus Aurelius Fortunatus Tidd!”
“Come on,” says Mark, “and stay to supper.” He knew his mother would be glad to have Zadok to a meal so she could thank him a lot for helping him out and so she could ask him a heap of questions. Dad had already said I could go to Mark’s, so we’d be all in a crowd together. Zadok made room for us on the seat—that is, he made most room enough for Mark, and I sat on top of the wagon. And so we drove to Tidd’s.
“Where’ve you been all day? That’s what I’d like to know,” snapped Mrs. Tidd, when we came to the door. She didn’t see there was company, or she wouldn’t have lit into Mark till they were alone. But Zadok stepped from behind and bowed way over, and Mark introduced him.