not know that the Professor had filled me with the hope of bigger
things. I had taken what Boller had said, and I enlarged it to a wider
scale of life. I had no intention of exchanging the opportunities of
Harlansburg for those of Coal City. Even the Pokono County gang would
be small game for me. But before I could thank Boller for his interest
and decline it, he hurried on to fix my salary and to explain the
nature of my work. He nettled me, and I protested with heat that I
wished to start in a broader field.

"That's all right, Malcolm," said my mentor, undisturbed by the
reflection on his own city. "But you can get an invaluable experience
on the _Sentinel_. If you start right for New York how are you going
to get a job? On the other hand, look at Bob Carmody. He learned with
us--three years--and now he has a splendid place on the New York
_Record_, making forty a week--covered the Douglas murder trial. Look
at Bush, James Woodbury Bush--he went to Philadelphia after two years
with us, and he is literary editor of the _Gazette_--landed it easily.
He has already published one book--'Anna Virumque'--a charmingly clever
story of early Babylon."

The success of Bob Carmody and James Woodbury Bush, while they
confirmed me in my respect for the profession of journalism and in my
resolve to enter it, did not shake my purpose to waste no time in
desultory skirmishing. That I decided so promptly that New York was to
be my scene of action was due to Boller's casual mention of Bob
Carmody's salary, which by rapid calculation I found to equal Doctor
Todd's and to surpass my father's income. The figures were large. I
flattered myself that I found no appeal in the money, but regarded it
simply as the measure of the power and importance which Bob Carmody had
attained. The value of his brain labor was nearly double the value of
the foodstuff produced on my father's farm. The figures were
impressive. I knew, however, that I could not argue with Boller,
supported as he was by experience, and my way with him lay in an
obstinate declaration of my purpose.

"It's good of you to offer me a place," I said. "But I'm not going to
waste any time. A few days at home, and I am off to New York."

If Boller felt any irritation at my rejection of his offer, he did not
show it. Doubtless he laid my refusal to the ignorance of youth, for
he stood over me, regarding me through the drooping glasses, as my
father would have reg