The colonel nodded to show that he knew what he was doing. He loved his son, and at times was really grateful that Rivington had no alarming fondness for disreputable things. Rivington was a gentleman and would behave accordingly.
He was a Willetts and, therefore, must concern himself with conserving his inheritance. It did not occur to the colonel that Rivington might live decently all his life and withal be a non-producer. If any one had said that to the colonel, doubtless the colonel would have said that Rivington did not need to be a producer. Tommy was faintly conscious that if Rivington worked trader Thompson for a few years he would greatly increase his own usefulness, but he merely said:
“I can't help wishing that Rivington and I might be together, Colonel.”
“I understand, my boy,” agreed the colonel, rather too hastily, Tommy thought. “Well, I'll take the two thousand shares. Have the stock put in the name of John B. Kendrick, my confidential clerk, who will give you a check for the two hundred thousand dollars. I'll apportion the stock later. I am too busy just now, and I know you are anxious to return to Dayton.”
Tommy's joy over his success was a complex affair. He had a boy's immaturity, but he could think straight enough. His father had done the obvious thing in having the bank's correspondents telegraph confidential reports about the Tecumseh's standing and reputation to New York business men, who would attach greater importance to such information than to Tommy's reports about Thompson, who really was the Tecumseh. Moreover, it was friendship and not eloquence or hard work that had persuaded Colonel Willetts to buy the stock. Thus there could be no sense of personal triumph. At all events, the deal was closed, his work was done, and Thompson's wish would be gratified, and Tommy would do his best to make it a safe investment for Colonel Willetts and his friends.
“I am much obliged, Colonel,” he said, trying to speak with the proper composure.
“Not to me, Tommy; to—er—Marion. Gad! how that girl boomed Dayton.” The colonel looked quickly at Tommy.
Everything else vanished from Tommy's mind, even the great work! He would tell her—But first he must say something to her father.
“I hope she—and you—will never be sorry you've done this. It means a lot to me and—”
“What commission do you get, Tommy?” asked the colonel, quizzically.