“Boy, that smells good,” said Westy.
“I think we’re on the right trail,” said Ed.
CHAPTER XXX
VISITORS
As Westy went about the hotel in his tattered attire and thought of Shining Sun, the Indian boy, unnoticed and occupied with his business quarrel, it seemed to him that the world was upside down.
Wherever the award boy went, people looked at him, and as for boys, of whom there were many about the place, they followed him around, besetting him again and again for details of his adventure. Some of the more shy ones contemplated him with a kind of awe as if he had come from Mars, asking questions about Bloodhound Pete which, of course, Westy could not answer.
He found himself a real hero, with no essential of that thrilling role lacking. Gentlemen patted him on the shoulder, telling him that he was “some boy,” and one girl begged that before he changed a single stitch of his perfectly adorable attire, he let her take him with her kodak. In the dining room all faces were directed to the table where the three award boys ate. And indeed it was worth while watching them eat, for, as Ed observed, “nobody ever ate like this before.”
“The tables are turned, that’s sure,” said Warde.
“Maybe we can continue at another table,” said Ed.
“I mean Westy’s the real scout after all,” said Warde.
“My error, I was thinking of dining tables,” said Ed. “I can’t seem to think of anything else. That girl over at the third table, Wes, the one that’s eating a cruller; she’s the one that took your picture, isn’t she? I want to collect a dollar and a half from her as your manager.”