"Too much of your pappy in you," Al growled, "and not enough of your mother. I want you to be somethin' besides a woods runner."
"It isn't that, Dad. I've tried to explain to you. It's the people—seeing them come in here all tired out, and seeing them go away rested and refreshed after we've shown them everything we have in the Mahela. I know college is valuable and I don't look down my nose at education. But this is my job."
Al sighed. "I've tried to talk some sense into you. How are you and Thornton gettin' along?"
"Dad, Thornton owns Crestwood. I just work there."
"So that makes Thornton better'n you, huh? You're goin' to be a right smart passel of time, savin' enough to start your own resort on what Thornton pays you."
"I'm getting experience, meeting people, learning how it's done. I'm really learning the business from the bottom up."
"Huh?"
"Nels Anderson and I have been working on the plumbing in Crestwood's basement," Ted grinned.
Al frowned. "I'm not foolin'. This is a big job you've set up for yourself and I don't see how you'll ever get enough money to do it."
Ted said confidently, "I'll work it out."