"He was very proud of what you did at college," Gorham said. "I never used to meet him without hearing about some of your athletic triumphs."
"I suspect it is you who call them triumphs," Allen replied; "that doesn't sound like the pater to me. Of course, some of the things I did in college seemed worth while at the time; I tried for the football team, and I made it—by hard work, with a hundred other fellows doing their best to push me back on the side lines; I tried for the crew, and I made it; I rowed two years at New London, and there was some work about that. I'm afraid I made athletics my vocation and studies my avocation, but I tried to do what I undertook as well as I knew how, and some of the boys still think I'm pretty good in certain lines."
"Life is scarcely a football-field, my boy," Gorham remarked, sententiously. "The world of business admits of no vacuum. It is the survival of the fittest, and work is the great secret of success."
"I know what a 'vacuum' is, anyway," Patricia was recovering from her temporary chagrin.
"Now is your chance to square yourself," said her father, turning to her, kindly.
"I learned that at school last winter," the child continued, proudly: "a 'vacuum' is the place where the Pope lives when it is vacant."
"There, Allen," laughed Gorham, "you have no excuse for not understanding my statement."
"Not in the least. Lady Pat has explained my whole difficulty! But, after all, Mr. Gorham, don't you think there are some things about business and football which are the same?" pleaded Allen, when Patricia was again quieted, his attitude with Mr. Gorham being quite different from the one he had affected with Alice. "I've often tried to think what I'd do if I ever got started, and I've said to myself that when I came up against the other fellow I'd just grit my teeth and say, 'That confounded Eli shan't get through'; and I'm pretty certain that he'd find something in his way before he got the contract I was after."
Gorham was distinctly interested in the boy's intensity. "Suppose I write a line to your father and suggest that he take active steps to get you started somewhere."
"Please don't," Allen said, quickly. "I'll write him myself at once. If you do it, he'll think I haven't got the spunk. Perhaps I can put it strong enough so he will realize that I'm tired of killing time running about in my motor-car."