ens to be the only girl of her set who is
just out from London; she had met a good many of them there, and now
she is holding a veritable salon. She even has one sacred teacup,
set up on a high shelf ever since the day that Baden-Powell used
it."
Weldon smiled.
"Miss Dent is a hero-worshipper," he commented.
"So are we all, in certain directions. Moreover, most women like
their heroes to have a little personality. One can't make one's
admiration stick to a blank wall of impersonal perfection."
Weldon's mind moved swiftly backwards to two blue, black-fringed
eyes glowing out from a dust-streaked face.
"No," he assented; "but neither can one ever really be chums with
his hero. Or, even if he can, he doesn't care to try the
experiment."
Alice glanced at her watch, rose, then lingered.
"I am not so sure of that," she replied thoughtfully. "I want the
pedestal of my hero to be a low one; and Cooee declares that she
wishes no pedestal at all. If her hero is worthy of the name, he
must bear inspection even from above. The worst flaw of all might
lurk in the very crown of his head."
Half an hour later, she came back again.
"Mr. Weldon, do you feel strong enough to see Kruger Bobs for
exactly five minutes?" she asked.
The gray eyes lighted.
"For ten times five," he answered eagerly.
Kruger Bobs shuffled in upon the heels of an orderly. Under his
bristly hair, his face was a study of mingled emotions which
culminated in his mouth. A grin of pure happiness had drawn up the
upper lip; at sight of his prostrate master, the lower one was
rolling outward in a sudden wave of pure pity. Beside the cot, he
halted and stood looking down at Weldon with eyes which, for the
moment, transformed his lazy, jolly, simian face into a species of
nobility. Lying back on his pillow, Weldon waited for him to speak,
waited with an odd, restless beating of the heart for which he was
wholly at a loss to account.
The pause between them lengthened. At last Kruger Bobs drew his
mangy brown felt hat across his eyes.
"I's here, Boss," he said simply.
However, it was enough.
The next morning found Weldon sitting up. A clean-cut hole through
the flesh of a man who has lived a clean-cut life is swift in
healing. Now that his fever had left him, his superb vitality was
asserting itself once more, and he rallied quickly. Meanwhile, it
was good to be able to sit up and eat his breakfast like a civilized
being. Weldon had all
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