The father paid no heed to the son.
“Has thee traveled around the world much?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thee has met many men?”
“Many and of all sorts and conditions.”
“Then I want to ask thee what thee thinks of the good wit of a man who declares that he will go forth into the world, faring here and there, to try to do good to all men, to try to settle the troubles between men, free of all price?”
Farr turned gaze from the father to the earnest countenance of the son, and then stared again into the searching eyes of the old man. Prolonged and embarrassed silence followed.
“Thy looks speak louder than words,” declared the father. “Thy eyes say it—he is a fool.”
“It may be as well not to say so with thy tongue,” advised the son. “I might not be as patient with a stranger as I am with my father. He is wholly practical, without imagination, and so I excuse him.”
“I offer no comments,” said Walker Farr with a frank smile which won an answering flicker from the face under the vizor. “I do not understand.”