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"On the Firing Line"


"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.


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