I've got to hand it to
you."
His sudden approach had confirmed William Bannister's worst suspicions.
This was precisely how he had expected the germ to behave. He shrank
back on the pillow, gulping.
"Why, for the love of Mike," said Steve, "don't you know me, kid? I'm
not a porch-climber. Don't you remember Steve who used to raise Hades
with you at the studio? Darn it, I'm your godfather! I'm Steve!"
William Bannister sat up, partially reassured.
"What's Steve?" he inquired.
"I'm Steve."
"Why?"
"How do you mean--why?"
The large eyes inspected him gravely.
"I remember," he said finally.
"Well, don't go forgetting, kid. I couldn't stand a second session like
that. I got a weak heart."
"You're Steve."
"That's right. Stick to that and we'll get along fine."
"I thought you were a germ."
"A what?"
"They get at you and hurt you."
"Who said so?"
"Mamie."
"Are you scared of germs?"
The White Hope nodded gravely.
"I have to be sterilized because of them. Are you sterilized?"
"Nobody ever told me so. But, say, kid, you don't want to be frightened
of germs or microbes or bacilli or any of the rest of the circus. You
don't want to be frightened of nothing. You're the White Hope, the
bear-cat that ain't scared of anything on earth. What's this germ thing
like, anyway?"
"It's a----I've never seen one, but Mamie says they get at you and hurt
you.
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