“Don’t you worry though, dearie! If the opportunity turns up I will speak my mind.”
As they ran in at the gateway and up through the avenue of trees, they found John Royce Pederstone seated in a garden chair on the front lawn.
The old man’s greeting to his daughter and to Phil was cordiality itself, for John Royce Pederstone was always a cheerful man, believing good of all whom he met, shutting his ears to all slander and quick to recognise enterprise and ability.
“Well, young man!––you’ve been making rapid progress since I saw you last,” he remarked, by way of greeting.
“More ways than one,” put in Eileen a little shyly.
Phil lost no time in stating his case in plain words to the politician. And his very plain words were what struck the responsive chords, for John Royce Pederstone was of all things a plain man. And the great pity of it all was that he had not stayed with plain blacksmithing or plain ranching.
So many men find out after the act that they have left the substance to chase the shadow.
John Royce Pederstone, however, had not yet come to the point of recognising this very great truth.
“What does my Eileen say to all this?” he asked, by way of answer.