There was no lack of animated conversation around their supper tables
that night. Bob's parents made no secret of the fact that they were
proud of their son's part in the day's work. Joe, too, found himself
made much of in the family circle, not only by his father and mother,
but by his sister Rose, who hovered about him forestalling his wants
and showing him a deference that would have been highly flattering
if it had not been also somewhat embarrassing. Rose, a year or so
younger than Joe, was all aflutter with the romantic possibilities
of the affair. A young girl in distress! Joe to the rescue! What
could be more interesting?
"Was she pretty, Joe?" she asked.
"Blest if I know," her brother answered briefly. "Pass me some more
of that roast veal, Sis. It goes right to the spot."
With a sigh, Rose complied. Joe was so practical!
Herb and Jimmy came in for a modified share of applause because of
the help they had rendered by their prompt and efficient handling
of the fire grenades, which had held the flames under control until
the fire department could get to the place and complete the job.
The minister's house adjoined the big stone church, which was on West
Main Street and divided the business from the residential part of
the street. It was a roomy, capacious structure, and at about eight
o'clock that night it became a place of pilgrimage for a large number
of the boys of the town.
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