“I am proud, Colonel, but if you don’t mind—well, sir, would you mind doing me a favor?”
“Name it, son!” said the Colonel. “Doing a favor for Rick Ellison’s boy would seem like doing something for him; and God knows anyone who knew him would jump at that chance.”
“It is only this,” said David. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not have it known here about father. He is too big for me. I want to see if I can’t make good without leaning on his record. If it leaks out now that I am Captain Ellison’s son, lots of ’em will watch me and perhaps be kinder to me than I deserve.
“Don’t you see, sir, it is sort of like the ginks in old times, who used to go out to kill dragons and rescue fair ladies carrying plain shields, so nobody would know that their fathers were kings, until they had proved that they were pretty hot themselves.”
“Absolutely; you are right!” said the Colonel. “I will not tell, but don’t forget that I am David Ellison’s friend, for his own sake as well as for the sake of his father.” He shook David’s hand and as the boy went out muttered to himself, “Damned if that kid hasn’t killed his first dragon, already; the dragon of dependence!”
Once outside, David sprinted for a telegraph office, and the glorious news of his success ticked gaily off to his mother. Then taking his suitcase, he returned to the Goodlow Plant, and at the barracks was assigned his quarters.
On his way to find Ryan he saw Cram sitting outside the General Offices, where the Board was working.
“What’s the glad news, Cram?” he cried.
Cram looked up.
“Well, there’s some hitch,” he said. “I guess they don’t know just which class to put me in. They told me to wait until afternoon. I thought I might as well stay right here.”