“That’s no way to talk. What’s one slip-up, or two, or three? Nobody’s a failure till he’s dead. Confidence comes from success, but, let me tell you, boy, practical knowledge comes from jolts.”
“Dog-gone! I ought to be awful wise,” Bruce answered ironically. “Yes,” sobering. “I’ve learned something—I’m not liable to make the same mistake twice.” He added ruefully: “Nor, by the same token, am I likely to have the chance. I suppose I’ve got the reputation of being something midway between an idiot and a thief.”
Burt seemed to consider.
“Well, now, I can’t recall that the person who engineered this trip for me used any such names as that. As near as I could make out she was somewhat prejudiced on your side.”
Bruce stared.
“She? Not ‘Ma’ Snow!”
Burt’s eyes twinkled as he shook his head.
“No,” drily, “not ‘Ma’ Snow. She’s an estimable lady but I doubt if she could talk me into comin’ on a tour like this in winter.”
A wonderful light dawned suddenly in Bruce’s eyes.