This witticism elicited a hearty laugh from his hearers. Kid was discovering that since he had become a hero his faintest efforts to be humorous met with flattering success, and his words were listened to with a new and almost disconcerting respect. And Kid was a philosopher and he determined to make the most of his glory. That is why, when, presently, the fellows returned to the hall, Kid selected the most comfortable chair in front of the big fireplace and stretched his legs out until his wet shoes rested comfortably on the edge of the fender. Ordinarily Kid’s place was, with the rest of the youngsters, outside the circle. But only Dick Gardner uttered any protest, and that half-heartedly.
“Well, you believe in making yourself comfortable, don’t you, Kid?” he inquired dryly.
“Did you want this chair?” Kid asked politely, moving as though to relinquish it.
“No, there are others,” answered Dick, relenting. “Keep your seat, Kid.”
So Kid kept it and the upper class fellows ranged themselves beside him, and Bert, Lanny and Small sat outside the pale and observed him enviously. Kid felt very content and was wondering how he could bring the conversation around to the subject of his heroism without seeming to do so when Mr. Folsom descended the stairs. He was making for Doctor Merton’s room when his glance, sweeping over the group in front of the hearth, lighted on Kid.
“Ah, Fairchild!” He stopped and smiled at the hero. “Did you find that word?”
“Er—no, sir.”
“Really? Did you look thoroughly?”
“I—I didn’t have time. I’m going to look it up after supper, sir.”