"Did grandpa pull for you, or did you have to find yourself?"
"Well," said the father diffidently, "I had a natural taste for business. But," and he smiled at his son, "I shouldn't live on what you earn, if I were you. You needn't spend much, but have a good time out of hours. You'll find yourself working side by side with other sons of rich men. And you can bet your bottom dollar they don't live on what they can earn. Unless you make a display of downright wealth you'll be judged on your merits. That's what you're driving at, isn't it?"
So they compromised on that point; and the next morning they went downtown and called upon Mr. Merriman, the great banker. He and Williams had been in many deals together, and on one historic occasion had supported prices and loaned so much ready money on easy terms as to avert a panic.
"John," said Williams senior, "my son Fitz."
"Well, sir," said Merriman, only his eyes smiling, "you don't look like a foreigner."
"I'm not," said Fitz stoutly.
"In that case," said Merriman, "what can I do for you?"
"I want to be called James Holden," said Fitz, "and to have a job in your office."
Merriman listened to the reasons with interest and amusement. Then he turned to Williams senior. "May I drive him?" he asked grimly.
"If you can," said Fitz's father. And he laughed.