“I don’t quite know,” answered Gerald diffidently. “I—I guess because he’s kind and good, sir. You see, he’s a pretty nice father, Mr. Collins.” And Gerald looked up smiling a little and blushing a little. Mr. Collins returned the smile.
“That’s so, Pennimore. And you’re right. It’s the man himself and not his success that one should admire. But big things always enthuse me, and this last achievement of your father’s is a big thing, a great big thing. We little fellows who sit at home and count our fingers have to admire the big men who get out in the world and do things.”
Gerald shook his head soberly.
“I don’t think you’re one of the ‘little fellows,’ sir,” he said. Mr. Collins laughed.
“I’m only a big toad in a little puddle, Pennimore. Your father is a big toad in a big puddle; that’s the difference. Well, and how are you getting on nowadays?”
“Pretty well, sir, thank you,” answered Gerald.
“That’s good. Come and see me if you strike a snag at any time.” And Mr. Collins went on.
The fellows, too, had heard of the Steamship King’s latest exploit and they let Gerald know it. But, whereas four months ago they might have said things that would have hurt Gerald’s feelings, to-day their allusions were all good humored. Millener came across Gerald watching baseball practice.
“Say, Pennimore,” he said gravely, “I wish you’d ask your father when you see him if he hasn’t got a steamship he doesn’t need. Just a small one will do, say eight or ten thousand tons.”
And Gerald laughed and promised.