Norman braced himself for the ordeal. He had never before dared to test his father's iron will. He had grown accustomed to see strong men bow and cringe before him, and felt a secret contempt for them all. They were bowing to his millions. And yet the boy knew with intuitive certainty that beneath the mask of quiet dignity and polished military bearing of the man he facetiously called "the Governor" there slumbered a will unique, powerful, and overbearing. More than once he had resented the silent pressure of his positive and aggressive personality. His own budding manhood had begun instinctively to bristle at its approach. The Colonel started on seeing Norman, and looked at him with a quizzical expression. "Was there an earthquake this morning, Norman?" "I didn't feel it, sir--why?" "You're downstairs rather early." Norman smiled. "I've been a little lazy, I'm afraid, Governor. But you know I wasn't consulted as to whether I wished to be born. You assumed a fearful responsibility. You see the results." The Colonel dropped his paper and looked at Norman a moment. "Well, upon my word!" he exclaimed. "What's happened?" "The biggest thing that ever came into my life, Governor," was the low, serious answer. "What?" "The decision that hereafter I'd rather be than seem to be, that I'm going to do some thinking for myself." "And what brought you to this decision?" the father quietly asked. "I went last night to that Socialist meeting." "Indeed!" "Yes," he went on, impetuously, "and I heard the most wonderful appeal to which I ever listened--an appeal which stirred me to the deepest depths of my being. I think it's the biggest movement of the century. I'm going to study it. I'm going to see what it means. What do you say to it?" The boy lifted his tall figure with instinctive dignity, and his eyes met his father's in a straight, deep man's gaze. The faintest smile played about the corners of the Colonel's mouth as he suddenly extended his hand. "I congratulate you!" "Congratulate me?" Norman stammered. "Upon the attainment of your majority. Up to date you have written a few verses and played football. But this is the first evidence you have ever shown of conscious personality. You're in the grub-worm stage as yet, but you're on the move. You're a human being. You have developed the germ of character. And that's the only thing in this world that's worth the candle, my boy. It's funny to hear you say that the appeal of Socialism has worked this miracle. For character is the one thing the scheme of Socialism leaves out of account. A character is the one thing a machine-made society could never produce if given a million years in which to develop the experiment." "And you don't object?" Norman asked with increasing amazement.