“Yes, sir.”
“Humph! Fosdick, Williamson and Hendricks are one of the biggest brokerage houses goin', so a good many New Yorkers have told me.”
“No doubt. But, Grandfather, you've had some experience with me as a business man; how do you think I would fit into a firm of stockbrokers?”
Captain Lote's eye twinkled, but he did not answer the question. Instead he asked:
“Just what did you give Fosdick as your reason for not sayin' yes?”
Albert laughed. “Well, Grandfather,” he said, “I'll tell you. I said that I appreciated his kindness and all that, but that I would not draw a big salary for doing nothing except to be a little, damned tame house-poet led around in leash and shown off at his wife's club meetings.”
Mrs. Snow uttered a faint scream. “Oh, Albert!” she exclaimed. She might have said more, but a shout from her husband prevented her doing so.
Captain Zelotes had risen and his mighty hand descended with a stinging slap upon his grandson's shoulder.
“Bully for you, boy!” he cried. Then, turning to Olive, he added, “Mother, I've always kind of cal'lated that you had one man around this house. Now, by the Lord A'Mighty, I know you've got TWO!”
Olive rose. “Well,” she declared emphatically, “that may be; but if both those men are goin' to start in swearin' right here in the sittin' room, I think it's high time SOMEBODY in that family went to church.”