The mail was carried but once a
week to this place, and by the time the paper arrived from the post office
it was several days old. Mr. Flitter had come home earlier than usual,
having had a fine day's shooting on the river, and was in excellent
spirits. Game was in great demand, and he looked hopefully for good sales
on the morrow. After their scanty meal he picked up the paper and began to
read. Silence reigned in the little dingy shanty for some time, broken
only by the short, sharp question.
"Don't you know anything about it, Danny?" insisted Mr. Flitter, noticing
the startled and puzzled look upon his son's face.
"What do you mean, dad?"
"Why, about that wreck on the river. This paper says that you saved two
people from drowning right off here over a week ago."
Dan's face flushed and his heart beat fast. What! was his name in the
paper? Would the people in the big city see it? What would the boys in the
neighbourhood think? Would they make fun of him any more? He could show
them now that he was somebody, for his name was in the paper! These
thoughts drove surgingly through his brain. He rose from his place and
stood by his father's side.
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