“And the boy,” I asked, “was he disappointing?”
“Young Breen?—not a bit of it. He's like all the young fellows who come up here from the South—especially the country districts—and he's from western Maryland, he says. Got queer ideas about work and what a gentleman should do to earn his living—same old talk. Hot-house plants most of them—never amount to anything, really, until they are pruned and set out in the cold.”
“Got any sense?” I ventured.
“No, not much—not yet—but he's got temperament and refinement and a ten commandments' code of morals.”
“Rather rare, isn't it?” I asked.
“Yes—perhaps so.”
“And I suppose you are going to take him up and do for him, like the others.”
Peter picked up the poker and made a jab at the fire; then he answered slowly:
“Well, Major, I can't tell yet—not positively. But he's certainly worth saving.”