Harry was literally pushed up the steps, the rest following him.
“How are you?” said Dr. Brent, grabbing him with one hand and pounding his shoulder with the other. Mr. Danforth very cheerfully pushed Dr. Brent out of the way. “Harry, my boy, how are you? It was magnificent! You’re a wonder! How do you feel?”
“Fine and dandy,” smiled Harry.
“You must be all played out,” said Morrel. “Do you feel like a cup of coffee?”
“Do I look like a cup of coffee?” Harry laughed. “Where’s the Kid, anyway?”
“The Kid went up in the air when you touched the finish line and hasn’t come down yet. He told us all not to speak to you till he’d seen you first—didn’t he, Tilford?”
“Sure, they’re all crazy about you here, Harry. You’ve got them hypnotized. Gordon’s applied for a patent on you.”
“Say, Harry,” said Charlie Greer, the Beavers’ corporal, “we’ve been writing to Oakwood. Where’ve you been, you old tramp? Gordon says you’ve been doing light housekeeping on the top floor of old what’s-its-name mountain.”
“Yes, I’ve been cooking for the Kid,” Harry answered. “He’s a whole famine in himself.”
“Harry, those were regular rowing oars, weren’t they? How did you manage ’em, anyway?”