I went over to Mark’s house after supper and read him that. He was quiet for a long time—and I saw him blink and blink because something came into his eyes he didn’t want me to see. Pretty soon he says:
“Plunk, there’s different ways of gettin’ paid for things. There’s money and fame and such-like, but, honest, seems to me, and you can t-tell your mother so for me, that what she says in her letter is the f-finest thing that ever happened.” He blinked again a couple of times. “When you’re th-through with it, Plunk, I wish you’d give me that letter. I’d—I’d like to keep it—always.”
That was a side of Mark Tidd I never saw before. It sort of gave me a look inside of him. Always before I’d thought about his being smart and scheming and sharper than most folks, but now I saw there was something more—maybe something better and worth more to have—a great big heart that was full of sympathy for folks and that could be sorry when other folks were sorry and glad when they were glad.
I was pretty embarrassed and couldn’t find a word to say, but I gave him the letter. He folded it carefully and put it in his pocket.
“Plunk,” says he, “I’d s-sort of like to read this to dad and m-mother.... I guess they’d like to hear it.”
“Sure,” says I, sort of pinched in my throat. I know how my folks would be glad to have somebody say such a thing about me. My mother ’d cry, I know, but it wouldn’t be because she was sorry. Not much. So I says “Sure,” and got out of there as fast as I could, because I didn’t know how much longer I’d last without getting messy and acting like—like a fellow doesn’t like to act.
CHAPTER XII
By Saturday our beauty contest was getting pretty warm. Folks had talked about it and argued about it till they really got to believe there was some importance to the thing. There were quarrels over husbands, and Chet Weevil and Chancy Miller had to be separated every time they met. Those two young men took it pretty serious. Chet said if Chancy was to win he’d pick up and leave Wicksville for ever, and Chancy said if Chet was to win he’d go off and live in a cabin in the woods where he never would see another human being, he’d be that ashamed.
Mrs. Peterson and Mrs. Bloom didn’t speak to each other any more, but put in all their spare time fussing around town trying to scrape up votes for their husbands. There were a lot of others just as bad.
But when Wicksville heard how Old Mose Miller had a thousand votes and didn’t know who he was going to cast them for, there was excitement. You can bet there was. Early Saturday morning Chancy came sneaking into the store to find out about it.