The applause was fairly satisfactory. The Mayor of Cairo leaned across Rockwell to shake hands and congratulate him, and Mr. Wayward, on the other side, patted his shoulder and said, "Good enough!" And the band struck into a patriotic air.
Merriam awoke. It was as if lights had been turned on and doors opened. He realised that it was a bright, sunny morning, that a band was playing, that he, John Merriam, was alive and young, and that he was having a whimsically glorious adventure which he could not afford to miss the joy of even if Mollie June was Senator Norman's wife.
In this rejuvenated mood he joyously descended with the others from the band stand and climbed into the automobile and lay back happily, between Rockwell and the Cairo Mayor, to relish the slow processional drive--still preceded by the band--back to the station.
"Feeling better?" asked Rockwell, who had not failed to note his previous lethargy.
"Feeling fine!" he replied, and gave his attention to the scenery of Cairo's Main Street and the crowds therein, waiting eagerly for a glimpse of the remarkable Boy Senator.
As the automobile passed close to the curb on turning a corner, Merriam caught one remark:
"He does look just like a young man!"
The speaker was a decidedly pretty girl in a boldish sort of way. Merriam sensed and seized upon the privileges of age. He leaned forward:
"Thank you, my dear," he said. "At least I'm young enough to know a pretty girl when I see one."
Which incident will serve to show that Merriam was really awake again. Also, it probably won more votes for Senator Norman's party at the next election than the whole of Aunt Mary's able speech as delivered by the human phonograph a few minutes earlier.