Kenneth had had his breakfast—how long ago he could not say, since he had slept since then—and had learned all the exciting news; that Lower House was so badly burned that there was no question of repairing it; that Mr. Whipple had been sent to the hospital at Lynnminster, seriously but not dangerously hurt; that Grafton Hyde had received no damage and was about this forenoon wearing a strangely blank expression due to the loss of his eyebrows; and that King, to whose disregard of the rules the fire had been due, had, previous rumors to the contrary, escaped unharmed.
Kenneth's informant had been the school doctor, who had also imparted the information that Kenneth's injuries were trifling, a couple of scorched fingers and a pair of badly inflamed eyes, but that nevertheless he would kindly spend the day in bed, "as heroes are scarce these days and must be well looked after when found."
There came a soft tapping at the door and Kenneth peeked eagerly out from under the bandage as Grafton Hyde entered and tiptoed across the floor. Kenneth looked for a moment and grinned; then he chuckled; then he threw an arm across his face and gave way to laughter unrestrained. Grafton laughed, too, though somewhat ruefully.
"Don't I look like a fool?" he asked.
Kenneth regained his composure with a gasp.
"I—I didn't mean to be rude," he said contritely, "but—"
"Oh, I don't mind," answered Grafton. "Besides, I'll bet you're the same way."
"Me?" Kenneth looked startled and passed a finger questioningly across his eyebrows. "There's nothing here!" he gasped. Off came the bandage. "How do I look?"
A smile started at Grafton's lips and slowly overspread his face. Kenneth smiled back.
"We must be a pair of freaks," he said, chuckling. "Do they ever grow back again?"