“I’m not huffy, Blash. It was a bit of a jolt at first, though! Seeing my name flash out at me like that--was sort of startling! What I don’t understand, though, is what--is how----” “Back to your mark! Start over, Dick.” “Well, then, what put the idea of a--a--where did you get that stuff about my being a hero and all that?” floundered Dick. “Oh, one hears things,” Blash chuckled. “Fame has its--ah--penalties!” “Yes, I guess one does hear things,” said Dick bitterly with a resentful glance at the dimly seen form of Stanley, ahead. They dropped Blash at Goss and went on to Sohmer, Rusty choosing the longest way home for the privilege of enjoying their society, as he explained. Blash’s joke was further discussed, Rusty declaring with a reminiscent laugh that he would never forget the expression on Dick’s face when the title was flashed on the screen! Then Rusty took himself off across the turf on a shortcut to Maple Street and Dick and Stanley climbed the stairs in silence to Number 14. When the light was going Stanley looked questioningly at his chum. “What’s the matter, Dick?” he asked. “Did that business jar you too much?” “No, I didn’t mind it, thanks,” replied Dick, rather stiffly. “Of course,” he added after a pause, “everyone in school will think me an awful ass, but I suppose that won’t matter. It won’t to you, anyway!” “Just what does that mean? Why to me?” “Well, it won’t, will it?” asked Dick defiantly. “If it had you’d have kept your mouth shut.” “Meaning?” “Meaning you promised to and you didn’t. You had to go and tell Blash.” “Oh, that’s it!” Stanley sounded relieved. “Well, let me tell you that I haven’t spoken a word to Blash or to anyone else about that business. I thought you had, though.” “I’d be likely to!” Dick looked incredulous. “If you didn’t, how did Blash know?” “Search me, Dick. Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe he just hit on that by chance.” “I don’t believe it. Perhaps he saw that thing in the _Sentinel_--But he couldn’t! Well, I’m sorry I suspected you, Stan.” “Don’t mention it,” replied the other cheerfully. “And look here, don’t get worried over the fellows hearing about it. Of course they will, and of course they’ll rag you a bit, but it’s only a good joke, Dick, and that’s all they’ll think it. It isn’t a patch on the things some fellows have had to stand!” “N-no, I suppose it isn’t. But--did you hear one idiot there tonight ask how much I paid for it? Maybe they’ll think I did pay for it, Stan?” “Oh, rot! That guy was just having some fun with you. They all know it was a joke, and they saw Rusty and Blash with us, and they’ll lay it to one of them. As a matter of fact, Dick, it’s a pretty good sign to have something like that sprung on you, because it means that you _are_ somebody. If fellows don’t like you they don’t trouble to work practical jokes on you, old top! There’s that satisfaction if you want it!” CHAPTER XXI TWO SCRAPS OF PAPER