Looking thus into their futures they were both very certain of themselves and of the roads which they were to travel. CHAPTER VII Larry was still gazing at where Maggie had stood, flashing her defiance at him, when Hunt came thumping down the stairway. “Hello, young fellow; what you been doing to Maggie?” demanded the painter. “Why?” “Her door was open when I came by and I called to her. She didn't answer, but, oh, what a look! What's in the air?” And then Hunt noted the Duchess apart in her corner. “I say, Duchess--what were Larry and Maggie rowing about?” “Grandmother!” Larry exclaimed with a start. “I'd forgotten you were here! You must have heard it all--go ahead and tell him.” “Tell him yourself,” returned the Duchess. Larry and Hunt took chairs, and Larry gave the gist of what he had said about his decision to Barney and Old Jimmie and Maggie. The Duchess, still motionless at her desk as she had been all during Larry's scene with Old Jimmie and Barney, and then his scene with Maggie, regarded her grandson with that emotionless, mummified face in which only the red-margined eyes showed life or interest. “So you're going to go straight, eh?” queried Hunt. The big painter sat with his long legs sprawling in front of him, a black pipe in his mouth, and looked at Larry skeptically. “You certainly did hand a jolt to your friends who'd been counting on you. And yet you're sore because they were sore at you and didn't believe in you.” “Did I say that I was sore?” queried Larry. “No, but you're acting it. And you're sore at Maggie because she didn't believe that you could make good or that you'd stick it out. Well, I don't believe you will either.” “You're a great painter, Hunt, and a great cook--but I don't give a damn what you believe.” “Keep your shirt on, young fellow,” Hunt responded, puffing imperturbably. “I say I believe you won't win out--but that's not saying I don't want you to win out. If that's what you want to do, go to it, and may luck be with you, and may the devil stay in hell. The morals of other people are out of my line--none of my business. I'm a painter, and it's my business to paint people as I find them. But Maggie certainly did put her finger on the tough spot in your proposition: for a crook to find a job and win the confidence of people. It's up grade all the way, and it takes ten men's nerve to stick it out to the top. Yep, Maggie was sure right!” And then the Duchess broke her accustomed silence with her thin croak: “Never you mind Maggie! She thinks she knows everything, but she doesn't know anything.” Larry looked in surprise at his grandmother. There was a flash in her old eyes; but the next moment the spark was gone. “Sure you're up against it--but I'll be rooting for you.” Hunt was grinning. “But say, young fellow, what made you decide to vote the other ticket?”