“Nonsense! You could buy out one of their clubs, holus-bolus, if you wanted to.”
“You don’t quite get me,” said Grant. “If I used the money which was left by my father, or the income from the business, no doubt I could do as you say. But I feel that that money isn’t really mine. You see, I never earned it, and I don’t see how a person can, morally, spend money that he did not earn.”
“Then there are a great many immoral people in the world,” the lawyer observed, dryly.
“I am disposed to agree with you,” said Grant, somewhat pointedly. “But I don’t intend that they shall set my standards.”
“You have your salary. That comes under the head of earnings, if you are finnicky about the profits. What do you propose to pay yourself?”
“I have been thinking about that. On the ranch I got a hundred dollars a month, and board.”
“Well, your father got twenty thousand a year, and Roy half that, and if they wanted more they charged it up as expenses.”
“Considering the cost of board here, I think I would be justified in taking two hundred dollars a month,” Grant continued.
Jones got up and took the young man by the shoulders. “Look here, Grant, you’re not taking yourself seriously. I don’t want to assail your pet theories—you’ll grow out of them in time—but you hired me to give you advice, and right here I advise you not to make a fool of yourself. You are now in a big position; you’re a big man, and you’ve got to live in a big way. If for nothing else than to hold the confidence of the public you must do it. Do you think they’re going to intrust their investments to a firm headed by a two-hundred-dollar-a-month man?”
“But I AM a two-hundred-dollar-a-month man. In fact, I’m not sure I’m worth quite that much. I’ve got no more muscle, and no more sense, and very little more experience than I had a month ago, when in the open market my services commanded a hundred and board.”