Mills took his billiards seriously. It was, Bruce could see, a
pastime much to his host’s taste; it exercised his faculties of
quick calculation and deft execution. Mills explained that he had
employed a professional to teach him. He handled the cue with
remarkable dexterity; it was a pleasure to watch the ease and grace
of his playing. Several times, after a long run, he made a wild shot,
unnecessarily it seemed, and out of keeping with his habitual even
play. Bud Henderson had spoken of this peculiarity. Bruce wondered
whether it was due to fatigue or to the intrusion upon Mills’s thoughts
of some business matter that had caused a temporary break in the
unity of eye and hand. Or it might have been due to some decision
that had been crystallizing in his subconsciousness and manifested
itself in this odd way. Mills was too good a player to make a fluke
intentionally, merely to favor a less skillful opponent. He accepted
his ill fortune philosophically. He was not a man to grow fretful or
attempt to explain his errors.
“We’re not so badly matched,” he remarked when they finished and he had
won by a narrow margin. “You play a good game.”
“You got the best there was in me!” said Bruce. “I rarely do as well as
that.”
“Let’s rest and have a drink.” Mills pressed a button. “I’m just tired
enough to want to sit awhile.”
Bruce had expected to leave when the game was ended, but Mills gave him
no opportunity. He reestablished himself on the davenport and began
talking more desultorily than before. For a time, indeed, Bruce carried
the burden of the conversation. Some remark he let fall about the South
caused Mills to ask him whether he had traveled much in America.
“I’ve walked over a lot of it,” Bruce replied. “That was after I
came back from the little splurge overseas. Gave myself a personally
conducted tour, so to speak. Met lots of real tramps. I stopped to work
occasionally--learned something that way.”
Mills was at once interested. He began asking questions as to the
living conditions of the people encountered in this adventure and the
frame of mind of the laborers Bruce had encountered.
“You found the experience broadening, of course. It’s a pity more of
us can’t learn of life by direct contact with the people.”
Under Mills’s questioning the whole thing seemed to Bruce more
interesting than he had previously thought it. The real reason for his
long tramp--the fact that he had taken to the road to adjust himself
to his mother’s confession that he was the son of a man of whom he had
never heard--would probably have given Mills a distinct shock.
“I wish I could have done that myself!” Mills kept saying.
Bruce was sorry that he had stumbled into the thing. Mills was
sincerely curious; it was something of an event to hear first-hand of
such an experience. His questions were well put and required careful
answers. Bruce found himself anxious to appear well in Mills’s eyes.
But Mills was leading toward something. He was commenting now on the
opportunities open to young men of ability in the business world, with
Bruce’s experiences as a text.
“A professional man is circumscribed. There’s a limit to his earning
power. Most men in the professions haven’t the knack of making money.
They’re usually unwise in the investments they make of their savings.”
“But they have the joy of their work,” Bruce replied quickly. “We can’t
measure their success just by their income.”
“Oh, I grant you that! But many of the doors of prosperity and
happiness are denied them.”
“But others are open! Think of the sense of service a physician must
feel in helping and saving. And even a puttering architect who can’t
create masterpieces has the fun of doing his small jobs well. He lives
the life he wants to live. There are painters and musicians who know
they can never reach the high places; but they live the life! They
starve and are happy!”
Bruce bent forward eagerly, the enthusiasm bright in his eyes. He
had not before addressed Mills with so much assurance. The man was a
materialist; his standards were fixed in dollars. It was because he
reckoned life in false terms that Shepherd was afraid of him.
“Oh, don’t misunderstand me! I realize the diversity of talents that
are handed out to us poor mortals. But if you were tempted to become a
painter, say, and you knew you would never be better than second-rate,
and at the same time you were pretty sure you could succeed in some
business and live comfortably--travel, push into the big world currents
and be a man of mark--what would you do?”
“Your question isn’t fair, because it’s not in the design of things
for us to see very far ahead. But I’ll answer! If I had a real urge to
paint I’d go to it and take my chance.”
“That’s a fine spirit, Storrs; and I believe you mean it. But----”
Mills rose and, thrusting his hands into his trousers’ pockets, walked
across the room, his head bent, and then swung round, took the cigar
from his lips and regarded the ash fixedly.
“Now,” he said, “don’t think me ungracious”--he smiled
benignantly--“but I’m going to test you. I happen right now to know of
several openings in financial and industrial concerns for just such
a young man as you. They are places calling for clear judgment and
executive talent such as I’d say you possess. The chances of getting
on and up would be good, even if you had no capital. Would you care to
consider these places?”
The smile had faded from his face; he waited gravely, with a scarcely
perceptible eagerness in his eyes, for the answer.
“I think not, sir. No, Mr. Mills, I’m quite sure of it.” And then,
thinking that his rejection of the offer was too abrupt and not
sufficiently appreciative, Bruce added: “You see, I’m going to make a
strong effort to get close to the top in my profession. I may fall off
the ladder, but--I’ll catch somewhere! I have a little money--enough
to tide me over bad times--and I know I’d be sorry if I quit right at
the start. It’s kind of you to make the suggestion. I assure you I’m
grateful--it’s certainly very kind of you!”
“Oh, I’m wholly selfish in suggesting it! In my various interests we
have trouble finding young men of the best sort. I know nothing of your
circumstances, of course; but I thought maybe a promising business
opening would appeal to you. On the whole”--Mills was still standing,
regarding Bruce fixedly as though trying to accommodate himself to some
newly discovered quality in his guest--“I like to see a young man with
confidence in his own powers. Yours is the spirit that wins. I hope you
won’t take it amiss that I broached the matter. You have your engaging
personality to blame for that!”
“I’m glad to know it isn’t a liability!” said Bruce; and this ended the
discussion.