“So you and young Ruthven had your trip, after all?” he said five minutes later.
“Golly! Did we!” responded Elliot with enthusiasm. “Never had such a bully time in all my life, and Carl’s as happy as a king—his father all right, his two years in Germany arranged, everything going his way. The finest chap. I wish you knew him! Wasn’t it queer, though, about that old Trefethen, the octopus? Nobody understands, but he suddenly just took the clamps off, and buzz! the wheels went ’round. The Southwestern Railroad came to, and is going like a queen, and Mr. Ruthven was well the minute he heard it—pretty near dead he was, too. Carl came back to college with howls of joy, and he rowed the race, and we smeared the Harvards, and the whole thing went like a book. What do you suppose happened to old Trefethen?” he shot at the other. “Lost his mind, didn’t he?”
“Old Trefethen” puffed at his cigar. “Hadn’t heard of it,” he said tersely.
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing, Mr. Lord. I feel differently toward that old galoot. Since the Southwestern business I respect him. I don’t understand, but I swear I respect him. I’ve read every scrap about him in the papers, and I’ve formed an opinion. It’s my idea that he’s decided there are better games than being the richest man in the world. He’s certainly thrown away his chance for that, by what they say.”
“He certainly has,” the other responded, as one having authority, but the boy did not notice. A flash of amusement lit his face and his words flashed after it.
“Do you know, Mr. Lord—that’s queer—I’d forgotten.” The hurrying words fell over each other. “You were pointed out to me as Trefethen this minute. That’s how I came to see you.”
The man knocked his cigar ash into the sea. “Curious,” he said quietly. “It’s not the first time, however—I look like him.” He went on: “Tell me about yourself. What are you going to do when you get home?”
The bright face grew serious. “Well, Mr. Lord,” he said, “I’m in bad luck. Not the worst, for my people are all right, thank Heaven—but it’s bad. My father’s business—he’s a steel man—is in poor shape, and it’s about inevitable that he’s got to fail. If he could raise a hundred thousand he could tide through, but he can’t do it. It’s too much for the small people, and the big people won’t risk it—and he can’t ask them. So. They wanted me to stay over with Carl and finish out my six months, and I could, for the trip is off money that was left me. They said they’d rather have me, and I’d only be in the way at home, and all that. But it seemed to me that if the governor was in a scrape I’d better go and stand by him. Even if I’m not good for much at first, I might help brace him up. Don’t you think I was right?” he asked wistfully.
“I do, indeed,” the other answered with emphasis. And then slowly, staring at the earnest face: “I wish I owned something like a boy to stand by me in time of trouble.” A quick color rushed to Elliot’s cheeks.
“If you mean that—you don’t know me much—but if you’d let me—I’m not a lot of good yet, but I’m trustworthy. I’ll stand by you, Mr. Lord.”