That
won't be very soon, don't mistake me....I don't want to seem
over-curious about you--Laddy has interested me in you--and
straight out I'd like to know what you propose to do now."
"I haven't any plans," replied Dick; and, taking the moment as
propitious, he decided to speak frankly concerning himself. "I
just drifted down here. My home is in Chicago. When I left school
some years ago--I'm twenty-five now--I went to work for my father.
He's--he has business interests there. I tried all kinds of inside
jobs. I couldn't please my father. I guess I put no real heart in
my work. The fact was I didn't know how to work. The governor
and I didn't exactly quarrel; but he hurt my feelings, and I quit.
Six months or more ago I came West, and have knocked about from
Wyoming southwest to the border. I tried to find congenial work,
but nothing came my way. To tell you frankly, Mr. Belding, I
suppose I didn't much care. I believe, though, that all the time I
didn't know what I wanted. I've learned--well, just lately--"
"What do you want to do?" interposed Belding.
"I want a man's job. I want to do things with my hands. I want
action. I want to be outdoors."
Belding nodded his head as if he understood that, and he began
to speak again, cut something short, then went on, hesitatingly:
"Gale--you could go home again--to the old man--it'd be all right?"
"Mr. Belding, there's nothing shady in my past. The governor would
be glad to have me home.
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