Jack came downstairs. His father was at the table. As soon as he walked into the room, his father rose and bowing, said, “May I congratulate you? Will you please tell us how it feels to be a hero?”
Jack blushed. “Oh, don’t do, that, Dad,” pleaded Jack.
But Mr. Stormways was enjoying himself. “Sit down, my hero,” he said. He led Jack to the head of the table and sat him down there, saying, “Since you are now a hero, you shall preside over the dinner table.” As Mrs. Stormways came in her husband called out, “An extra portion of everything for the hero, my dear.”
“Ah, Dad, don’t,” pleaded Jack.
But Mr. Stormways was not to be dissuaded. Sitting down, he said, “Now tell me, did you capture the gang all by yourself, or did someone help you a little?”
Jack smiled. He thought he might as well join in with his father’s humor. “Well,” he answered, “Paul and Ken did help a little, but very little.”
“Just what I thought,” remarked his father. “And tell me another thing,” continued Mr. Stormways, “did the gangsters run just as soon as they saw you or did they hesitate for a little while?”
“They immediately surrendered,” was the reply.
“Now let me think,” mused his dad, “what else was there I wanted to ask you. Oh, yes. I suppose, that as a reward for your bravery, the president himself will no doubt come here to congratulate you and bestow upon you the Congressional Medal of Honor, is that so?”
“Well, I don’t know about that, Dad,” replied Jack. “I imagine that he may be too busy to do that. But I am sure he will send a representative.”