y fat little salaries goes with those
vice-presidencies, and a pinch o' stock in the Pump Company with the
directorship. You thought I was pretty mean about the shop--oh, I know
you did!--but you see the old man can play it both ways. And so right
now, the minute you've begun to make good the way I wanted you to,
I deal from the new deck. And I'll keep on handin' it out bigger and
bigger every time you show me you're big enough to play the hand I deal
you. I'm startin' you with a pretty big one, my boy!"

"But I don't--I don't--I don't want it!" Bibbs stammered.

"What'd you say?" Sheridan thought he had not heard aright.

"I don't want it, father. I thank you--I do thank you--"

Sheridan looked perplexed. "What's the matter with you? Didn't you
understand what I was tellin' you?"

"Yes."

"You sure? I reckon you didn't. I offered--"

"I know, I know! But I can't take it."

"What's the matter with you?" Sheridan was half amazed, half suspicious.
"Your head feel funny?"

"I've never been quite so sane in my life," said Bibbs, "as I have
lately. And I've got just what I want. I'm living exactly the right
life. I'm earning my daily bread, and I'm happy in doing it. My wages
are enough. I don't want any more money, and I don't deserve any--"

"Damnation!" Sheridan sprang up. "You've turned Socialist! You been
listening to those fellows down there, and you--"

"No, sir. I think there's a great deal in what they say, but that isn't
it."

Sheridan tried to restrain his growing fury, and succeeded partially.
"Then what is it? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," his son returned, nervously. "Nothing--except that I'm
content. I don't want to change anything."

"Why not?"

Bibbs had the incredible folly to try to explain. "I'll tell you,
father, if I can. I know it may be hard to understand--"

"Yes, I think it may be," said Sheridan, grimly. "What you say usually
is a LITTLE that way. Go on!"

Perturbed and distressed, Bibbs rose instinctively; he felt himself at
every possible disadvantage. He was a sleeper clinging to a dream--a
rough hand stretched to shake him and waken him. He went to a table and
made vague drawings upon it with a finger, and as he spoke he kept his
eyes lowered. "You weren't altogether right about the shop--that is,
in one way you weren't, father." He glanced up apprehensively. Sheridan
stood facing him, expressionless, and made no attempt to interrupt.
"That's difficult to explain," Bibbs