"We'll see whether he will or not," said Paul. "At least I can make my try and convince myself."
"It'll be no use, Kip," persisted Melville. "I hate to have you disappointed, old chap."
"I shan't be disappointed," said Paul kindly. "I shan't allow myself to expect much. Even if your father does turn me down he may give me a useful pointer or two."
"He won't do anything for you," Melville asserted dubiously. "He'll just have nothing to do with it."
In spite of Paul's optimism he was more than half of Melville's opinion.
Mr. Carter was well known throughout Burmingham as a stern, austere man whom people feared rather than loved. He had the reputation of being shrewd, close-fisted, and sharp at a bargain,—a person of few friends and many enemies. He was a great fighter, carrying a grudge to any length for the sheer pleasure of gratifying it. Therefore many a more mature and courageous promoter than Paul Cameron had shrunk from approaching him with a business proposition.
Even Paul did not at all relish the mission before him; he was, however, too manly to shirk it. Hence that evening, directly after dinner, he made his way to the mansion of Mr. Arthur Presby Carter, the wealthy owner of the Echo, Burmingham's most widely circulated daily.
Fortunately or unfortunately—Paul was uncertain which—the capitalist was at home and at leisure; and with beating heart the boy was ushered into the presence of this illustrious gentleman.
Mr. Carter greeted him politely but with no cordiality.
"So you're Paul Cameron. I've had dealings with your father," he remarked dryly. "What can I do for you?"