“Oh, I don’t know,” said Bertram. “The barbs elected me business manager of the Occident last season—I didn’t make the team until I was a Sophomore, you know—and that more than paid my way. This year I’ve got a billiard hall with Sandy McCusick.
“He used to be a trainer for the track team,” explained Bertram. “I steer him custom and he runs it. Ought to get me through next year over and above. That’s one reason I’m picking fruit and resting my mind this summer instead of hustling for money in the city.”
“And then?” asked the Judge.
“Law, I guess.”
“I am an attorney myself.”
“What school have you chosen?”
“None, I guess. I don’t want to afford the time. Yes, I know you want good preparation, but I’d rather be preparing in an office, making a little and keeping my eye open for chances. I may find, before my three years are up, that it isn’t law I want, but business.”
“I’m not a college man myself,” said the Judge, “I got my education by reading nights on the farm, and pounded out what law I knew in an office at Virginia City. One didn’t need a great deal of law to practice in Comstock days—more nerve and mining sense. But I’ve regretted always that I didn’t have a more thorough preparation. Still, every man to his own way. This may be best for you.”
“That’s what I think,” said Bertram Chester. “When I got through High School in Tulare, Dad said, ‘Unless you want to stay on the ranch, you’d better foot it for college.’ I didn’t want to ranch it, and I saw that college must be the best place for a start. Dad put up for the first year. I might have stretched it out to cover a little of my Sophomore year if I’d been careful. I was a pretty fresh Freshman,” he added. 41