"Show me, dad," he whispered; "let me see it."
"There, Danny, look at the heading:--
"'A Boy's Brave Deed.'"
"And is that long piece all about me, dad?"
"Yes, and it states what you did. Why didn't you tell me about it, son?"
"Where's my name, dad?" asked Dan, unheeding his father's question.
"There," and Mr. Flitter, pointing with his finger, spelled out the words,
"Daniel Flitter."
"Does it say, dad, who those people were that got swamped?"
"No, their names are not given. It only says that the young man lives in
the city. But why didn't you tell me about it, Dan?"
"Thought it wasn't worth while," replied the boy. "But I don't see how
they know about it down there to put it in the paper."
"How did it happen, son. Let's have the whole story." Mr. Flitter pulled
off his boots, lighted his pipe afresh, and leaned back to listen.
"I wonder who that woman is," he remarked, when Dan had finished his brief
account. "I know most people for miles around, and it's strange I don't
know her from your description. However, I shall make inquiries and find
out."
During the days that followed, Dan lived in a new world.
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