Johnnie dropped his book into the big shirt, reached the door in a few long jumps, jerked it wide, and--looked straight into a smiling, ruddy face. CHAPTER XVII MR. PERKINS HE was real! He had come! In a uniform, too, and boots, and a hat!--looking, in fact, even more wonderful than he had under the Elevated. "Oh!" breathed Johnnie, so glad and proud all at once that he forgot the apron and his hair, or that the table was still strewn with the breakfast dishes. He fell back a step. "Oh, Mister Leader!" The young man entered, lifting his hat from his head as he came, and displaying short, smooth, dark hair that glistened even in that poorly lighted room. "How are you, Johnnie!" he said heartily. They shook hands. "I'm fine!" answered Johnnie, smiling his sunniest. "Good!" The other gave a swift glance round. And certainly he was neither shocked nor delighted with the kitchen, for he acted as if he was seeing the sort of place he had expected to see--until he spied the wheel chair. Then he seemed surprised, and greatly interested. He laid his hat among the breakfast cups and crossed the room softly to look down at the little old man crumpled, sleeping, in the folds of the moth-eaten coat, the doll on one arm. "Grandpa Barber," explained Johnnie, speaking low. "I took him on a long trip down the Miss'sippi this mornin', and he's awful tired." The young man nodded. A curious wrinkle had come between his brows, as if some thought were troubling him. Also, even his forehead was red now. Suddenly he took out a handkerchief, turned, and walked to the window, where he used the handkerchief rather noisily, shaking his head. When he came about once more, and emerged from behind the square of white linen, not only did he look as if he were blushing violently, but even his eyes were a little red. "Are you going to ask me to sit down?" he asked, smiling. "Oh, I am! I do! Oh, what's the matter with me t'day! I forgit ev'rything!" The young man chose the morris chair. It was then that Johnnie realized how untidy the kitchen was, remembered that he had not washed the old soldier's face, or his own, or got rid of that apron. With fumbling fingers and mounting color, he slipped the apron strings over his tangled hair. "How'd I come t' have _this_ thing on!" he exclaimed, and looked at the apron as if he had never seen it before. The young man seemed not to notice either Johnnie's confusion or the soiled badge of girlish service. "You can call me Mr. Perkins, if you like," he said pleasantly. "And tell me--what've you been doing with yourself since I saw you?" Again sunlight focused upon Johnnie's face. "Well, mostly," he replied, "--mostly, I been jus' waitin' for you." He seated himself on the kitchen chair. "Now, you don't mean it!" cried Mr. Perkins, blushing again. "Well, bless your heart, old fellow! Waiting for me! I wish I could've come sooner. But I've been, pretty busy--up to my ears!"