CHAPTER XIII
THE NIGHT OF THE BONFIRE
If Tony had enjoyed the sensation of expanding under appreciation the night before the game, it reached fatigue point the night after. It falls to few boys, even for so short a time, to be the hero of his school; but it is one of the pleasantest experiences that can befall him. It gives the hero a feeling of kinship with the mighty conquerors of the past; a sense, intense if fleeting, of being one with Alexander, with Cæsar, with Napoleon. And though Deering bore his honors modestly, for this once he enjoyed them to the full; with the full-bloodedness of youth, he luxuriated in a sense of satisfaction with the world in general and with himself in particular. He was not ordinarily self-important, but it would have been an inhuman boy who remained indifferent to the incense of praise he received after that Boxford game. To have turned what seemed certain defeat into unexpected victory was a piece of good luck for which he was grateful, as well as he was grateful for the undoubted fact that he could run faster than most boys of his age.
Immediately after the game a score of boys, rushing across the lines, had laid bodily hold of him, hoisted him on their shoulders; and with similar groups, who had performed like service for other members of the team, they marched off the field, singing the school song at the top of their hoarse voices, in dreadful tune but with an enthusiasm that atoned for all defects. Jack Stenton was in the midst of them, and he literally hugged Tony when the boys put him down at the entrance to the Gymnasium locker-room. “I’m glad it fell to you, young ‘un,” he said; “it was a great run that will be remembered as long as boys play football at Deal.”
After his shower Tony dressed, joined Kit and Jimmie Lawrence, and wandered about the campus with them, enjoying to the fullest the sensation of universal proprietorship. At half-past six, they went again to the Inn to dine with Mrs. Wilson and the girls.
Kit had a black eye and a swollen nose that hurt considerably, but which he would not have foregone for the world; they made him feel as well as look a martyr to the cause. The girls were beaming, quite unaffectedly proud to be the guests of such heroes. Kit’s bruises seemed to affect Miss Worthington rather as ornaments than otherwise, to lend a fascination not afforded by his natural good looks, for she acquiesced this time in the pairing off on the way to the school after the dinner, for the celebration, that afforded him an opportunity for the much desired tête-à-tête. Mrs. Wilson appropriated Jimmie, so that Tony and Betty were left to walk together.
Alone with him, Betty ceased to beam; in fact, became shy and unwontedly silent. Tony liked the shyness, thought her sweeter so. He felt a pronounced sentimental thrill as he gave her his hand to help her across an insignificant ditch.
“It must be wonderful,” she said at last to break the awkward silence, “it must be wonderful to win a game.”