"I'm mighty glad to help," said Glen. "I'd do most anything for folks as good as you."
"There, mother; that's an unsolicited testimonial to your particular brand of goodness," said Will. "He didn't talk a bit that way when he met me first. Acted quite abrupt and seemed to want to get away."
"I didn't know you then," objected Glen. "I was trying to get away from everybody."
"Pretty good horse-power you were putting into it, too," observed Will. "That reminds me, boy. It is now time for you to unroll the full history of your eventful career."
"There isn't very much that matters, until a few days ago," began Glen.
"What's that?" asked Mrs. Spencer. "Did you say not much that matters? How old are you?"
"I was fifteen last May."
"Fifteen years ago last May! Don't you know, Glen, that something happened then that mattered a wonderful lot to one person, even if it didn't then matter much to you. And it's been mattering ever since, to her."
"Yes," agreed Glen, "my mother, you mean."
"Yes, I mean your mother. And your father, too, as long as he lived. Don't you suppose it mattered to them that their boy should be so—" she hesitated, groping for a word.