Clay beamed upon him.
“There was a time when I didn’t expect to hear you talk like that. However, you have a pretty good mill-boss and secretary, haven’t you? Do you think you could leave them to look after matters for a little while?”
“I suppose I could,” Aynsley answered dubiously. “They know more about the business than I do; but, for all that, I’d rather be on the spot. Things seem to go wrong unless you look closely after them.”
“They do; you’re learning fast, my son. It looks as if the mill is getting hold of you.”
Aynsley took a plan of some buildings from a drawer.
“What do you think of this?” he asked. “We could keep the new saws busy, but the job would cost about twenty thousand dollars. Could you let me have the money, or shall I go to the bank?”
Clay inspected the plan carefully.
“It’s a good scheme,” he declared. “If trade keeps steady, you’ll soon get the cost back. I could lend you the money easily but perhaps you’d better try the bank. You’ve got to stand by yourself sooner or later; and it seems to me that you’re getting pretty steady on your feet. Guess you’re not sorry now I made you work?”
Aynsley pondered the question. In some respects the business was not to his taste, but in spite of this it was rapidly engrossing his attention. There was a fascination in directing, planning for the future, and bringing about results.
“No,” he said. “In fact, I’m getting a good deal more satisfaction out of it than I expected.”