"Sure!" says I. "I'm backin' him to qualify."

"It might mean," goes on J. Bayard insinuatin', "an opportunity
to--well, to meet the right girl, you know."

Mrs. Hammond draws in her breath sharp and clasps her hands tight. I
could see the picture she was watchin' on the screen,--Royce and a real
swell young lady plutess trippin' towards the altar; maybe a crest on
the fam'ly note paper.

"Oh!" says she. "And he should have the chance, shouldn't he? Well then,
he must go. And you can just leave me out."

That seemed to settle it, and we was all takin' a deep breath, when
Royce steps to the center of the stage. He puts his arm gentle around
Mrs. Hammond and pats her on the shoulder.

"Sorry, Mother," says he, "but I'm going to do nothing of the sort.
You're an old dear, and the best mother a boy ever had. I never knew how
much you had given up for me, never dreamed. But from now on it's going
to be different. It's my turn now!"

"But--but, Royce," protests Mrs. Hammond, "you--you don't quite
understand. We can't go on living as we have. Our income isn't so much
as it was once, and----"

"I know," said Royce. "I had a talk with your attorney last week. It's
the fault of that Honduras rubber plantation, where most of our funds
are tied up. That Alvarez, your rascally Spanish superintendent, has
been robbing you right and left. Well, I'm going to put a stop to that."

"You, Royce!" says Mother.

"Yes," says he quiet but earnest, "I'm going down there and fire him.
I'm going to run the plantation myself for awhile."

"Why, Royce!" gasps Mrs. Hammond.

He smiles and pats her on the shoulder again. "I know," he goes on. "I
seem useless enough. I've been trained to shine at dinner parties, and
balls, and _thes dansants_. I suppose I can too. And I've learned to
sound my final G's, and to use the right forks, and how to make a
parting speech to my hostess. So you've kept your promise to Father. But
I've been thinking it all over lately. That isn't the sort of person I
want to be. You say Father was a real man. I want to be a real man too.
I mean to try, anyway. This little affair with Alvarez ought to test
me. They say he's rather a bad one, that he can't be fired. We'll see
about that. There's a steamer for Belize next Thursday. I'm going to
sail on her. Will you go along too?"

For a minute they stood there, Mother and Sonny boy, gazin' into each
other's eyes without sayin' a word; and then--well, we turns our