"I have been trying to thank Mr. Fort for what he did yesterday. It was a remarkably brave thing!"
"Indeed it was," declared Mona, with feeling. "And yet, try as I might last night, I was unable to make him see that it was anything out of the ordinary, mother."
"Why, of course," protested the athlete carelessly. "There was nothing brave about it. One is not brave unless one is afraid; and I wasn't afraid. I can take no credit for the thing."
"Do you mean," questioned Mona, "that you are never afraid?"
"Not when I am in the air."
There was silence for a minute, and again Billie used Mona's eyes to good advantage. Fort was certainly a good-looking chap, although slightly untidy in small items of his costume. He was the kind which looks best when somewhat disheveled, anyhow. As to face—a large, handsomely curved mouth, a slightly Roman nose, eyes as big as Mona's and as blue as hers were brown. Decidedly, the man was worth looking at, again and again. Most daredevils are sharp-featured; Fort was kindly. There was something positively reassuring about his kind of audacity.
Presently the mother mentioned Ernol, the radical; seemingly these people had been privately informed of what Powart was keeping from the workers. Fort commented:
"I was really frightened when I heard of it. Why, if that fellow's philosophy is listened to, we all may have to work for a living!" His laughter rang above the rest; then he thought of Mona. "Oh, I say, I quite forgot, I assure you."
"Don't mention it," returned the surgeon humorously. "I don't mind telling you that this service of mine is largely camouflage. I belong to the Delusion Brigade."
Fort was greatly surprised. "You, a volunteer?"