It did seem a bleak prospect, indeed, standing there in the commodious bay window, seeing the flooded sky, hearing all the distant mingled songs of the city. From the near-by wall the orchestra of the theater sent the gay beats of a musical comedy march feebly out through open windows, while from the adjoining wall of the Times Annex, beyond the brilliant busy windows, the linotype machines were clicking out the news of the world that came throbbing in. The theater, the press, that world of imagination and hourly sensation, the half-opened restaurant with glimpses of gay tables and the beginnings of the nightly cabaret, the blazing court itself filled with ardent young men at the happy period of the first great ventures, all were brought so close to his own eager curiosity that he turned back rebelliously: "By heavens, I won't do it, whatever happens! I won't be starved out for the sake of more dollars. Well, would you in my place--now?" He took a pair of shoes and flung them scudding across the floor into the room and then stood looking down at the noncommittal figure of his friend. "Granning, you don't approve of us, do you? Stop looking like a sphinx. Answer or I'll dump the tray over you. You don't approve, do you? Besides, I watched your face to-night when Fred was spouting all that ridiculous stuff." "He meant it." "Do you think so?" He sat down thoughtfully. "I wonder." "What worried you?" said Granning directly, with a sharp look. "I was sort of upset," Bojo admitted. "You know when you got through and Fred got through, I thought after all you were right--we are gamblers. We want things quick and easily. It's the excitement, the living on a high tension." "I always sort of figured out you'd want to do something different," said Granning slowly. "So I would," he said moodily. "I wish I had Roscy's brains. I wonder what I could do if I had to shift for myself." "So that's the idea, is it?" He nodded. "The old Dad's stubborn as blazes. Had an up-and-down row with Jack, my older brother, and turned him out. Lord knows what's become of him. Dad's got as much love for the Wall Street game as your pesky old self. Thinks they're a lot of loafers and confidence men." "I didn't say it," said Granning with a short laugh. "No, but you think it."