alf a million dollars."

"That's a lot of money, Dad," said the younger man soberly.

"The interest doesn't come to fifty thousand dollars a year, though."

"More than half; and that's more than plenty."

"Well, I don't know. We'll try it. At any rate, it's your own. Plenty
more where it comes from, if you need extra."

"I shan't. It's more than generous of you--"

"Not a bit of it. No more than just, Boyee. So let the thanks go."

"All right, sir. But--you know how I feel about it."

"I guess I know just about how you and I feel toward each other on
anything that comes up between us, Boyee." There was a grave gentleness
in Dr. Surtaine's tone. "Well, there are the papers," he added, more
briskly. "I haven't put all your eggs in one basket, you see."

Going over the certificates Hal found himself possessed of fifty
thousand dollars in the stock of the Mid-State and Great Muddy Railroad:
an equal sum in the Security Power Products Company; twenty-five
thousand each in the stock of the Worthington Trust Company and the
Remsen Savings Bank; one hundred thousand in the Certina Company, and
fifty thousand in three of its subsidiary enterprises. Besides this, he
found five check-books in the large envelope which contained his riches.

"What are these, Dad?" he asked.

"Cash on deposit in local and New York banks. You might want to do some
investing of your own. Or possibly you might see some business
proposition you wanted to buy into."

"I see some Security Power Products Company certificates. What is that?"

"The local light, heat, and power corporation. It pays ten per cent.
Certina never pays less than twenty. The rest is all good for six, at
least and the Mid-and-Mud averages eight. You've got upwards of
thirty-seven thousand income there, not counting your deposits. While
you're looking about, deciding what you're going to do, it'll be your
own money and nobody else's that you're spending."

"Do you think many fathers would do this sort of thing, Dad?" said Hal
warmly.

"Any sensible one would. I don't want to own you, Boyee. I want you to
own yourself. And to make yourself," he added slowly.

"If I can make myself like you, Dad--"

"Oh, I'm a good-enough piece of work, for my day and time," laughed the
father. "But I want a fine finish on you. While you're looking around
for your life-work, how about doing a little unpaid job for me?"

"Anything," cried Hal. "Just try me."

"Do you know what an Ol