“Well, it’s a matter we must look into. We’ll take it up before the end of the year. There’s never any use in being in a hurry about such things. I have always remembered what your grandfather Wayne said to an anxious young real estate agent once, in your grandfather’s old age. The young man was trying to sell your grandfather a lot downtown somewhere and became offensively persistent. One day your grandfather turned round on him and said—the thing impressed me, for your grandfather was exceedingly wise: ‘Young man, I have never made any money by being in a hurry.’ I have thought of that remark a thousand times!”
“I remember with equal distinctness,” said Wayne, smiling a trifle, “that once when grandfather was teaching me to play checkers he said never to imagine that the other fellow in any game was a fool.”
“Quite characteristic; he had almost Emerson’s way of shooting into the bull’s eye. I wish there were more men like Andrew Wayne; he was faithful in all his obligations, a man of absolute exactness in all his dealings. I used to hope you had inherited some of his traits.”
Colonel Craighill’s eye rested on the glass of water which stood by his son’s plate. The significance of the glance was not wasted on Wayne. With an almost imperceptible movement he pushed the glass away from him.
“You have been very regular at the office lately: I want you to know that I have noticed it, and that it has pleased me very much—very greatly indeed. I have sometimes wondered, Wayne, whether Dick Wingfield’s influence has been the best for you. I’m afraid he doesn’t take life very seriously. With his intelligence and leisure he might be of great help in our reform work.”
“Dick’s interested in the fine arts and not in politics. I’m sorry you don’t approve of him; he’s the best friend I’ve ever had. He’s the only man in town who hasn’t kicked me at some time or other. I probably need kicking, but it’s nice to know there’s one human being who withholds his foot.”
“You will find, if you follow your present course, and practice sobriety and industry, that you will not lack friends.”
“I suppose so, but it’s the sinner that needs friends, not the saint. But in this Gregory matter—if you are going to be gone next week——”
“I’ll write to Gregory and tell him to come in later on and we’ll talk over his case. He’s always appreciated the fact that I took care of him at the time we formed the Sand Creek Company. I’ll fix that up with him; he’ll have to be reasonable. He’s a simple old fellow and if he sees the absurdity of his claim he’ll be glad to settle.”
He yawned and looked at his watch. “Dear me, it’s half-past one! Will you put out the lights?”