“Sure thing, and I’m sorry I didn’t make it five continents when I wuz printin’ it. What’s a couple of continents more or less? Pull that there broken glass down and let’s have it, will yer? Yer don’t think yer done narthin’ big do yer?” He paused and faced Hervey for just a moment. “Dis here is just a trick, kid. Go on and join them kids what’s doin’ the divin’. Come out o’ yer trance, little brother. You’ze got the makin’s of a regular hop, skip and jumper, yer has. Wuz yer old man sore at yer?” Hervey felt as if the bottom had fallen out of the earth. Not that he wanted praise and recognition; he never craved those. But what he had done was just nothing at all. He was no more a hero than a man who tried to commit suicide is a hero. And the wonder of two continents was just a good-humored, tough little young man who knew a trick! How brave and splendid seemed the exploit of Wyne Corson now! That was not a trick. “You beat it home now,” said McDennison, “and don’t go inter no business what yer ain’t got the dope on. A kid like you oughter had that trip ter the coast. Look at me, I ain’t got the carfare ter open up in Bridgeburgh Fair.” Hervey went away, not exactly heavy-hearted, for he was never that. And not exactly thoughtful, for he certainly was never that. But disgruntled. And even that was unusual with him. He might have had that trip to the coast. Or at least on a dozen different occasions, he might have won such a reward. But for all his fine bizarre deeds he got just nothing; not even honor. And the pity of it was he could not figure this out. He never remembered what anybody told him; he never pondered. Yet I think that poor Diving Denniver did some good; I think he almost reached him. On the way home, he was saved from any of the perils of thought by the allurements of action. Near the entrance to the carnival was a basket full of booklets about _Farrelton the Home Town_. There was a sign above this basket which read. Free--Take One. Hervey did not take a booklet, but he took the sign. It was an oblong wooden sign and had a hole in it to hang it up by. By inserting a stick in this hole, he could twirl the sign around as he ambled homeward. He became greatly preoccupied with this pastime and his concentration continued till he reached the _Aunt Maria Sweet Shoppe_. Here were bottles of honey and tempting jars of preserves standing on a display shelf outside, and he coyly set the Free--Take One sign on these, proceeding homeward with that air of innocence that he knew how to affect.