“Your father,” he said, “is captain of the local company of state militia?”
“Yes, sir,” was the reply, “he is.”
“And it is a very honorable and responsible position. As president of the local Armory Board engaged in the erection of the new armory, I have come into frequent contact with him, and I have great respect for his ability, and for his willingness to be guided in this important military undertaking by men of greater business experience than his, and familiar with large affairs. I am sure he will approve of the sentence I am about to impose on you.”
He spoke as though he were a judge sitting in the criminal courts, about to impose sentence on a convicted prisoner.
“Ben,” he continued, turning to his son, “are you ready to share in the punishment I propose to provide for this young man?”
“I’m ready, father.” The boy answered without hesitation, and with apparent frankness.
“Very well!”
Mr. Barriscale pressed a button under the edge of his table, and a young woman entered the room with pencil and pad in her hand.
“Miss Lawranson,” he said, “you will please take dictation.”