"Is it so?" exclaimed Papa as if realizing that fact for the first time.
"So you stood by my boy, eh, Dick? Well, that's good! My boy has stood
by you and so will I. Now listen, boys. Why can't I do a little
adventuring, eh? Let's make this a thousand acre Plant. And the Dean
says that this engine will put every other low temperature, high speed
engine off the market. Why not build some and sell them, eh?"
"But Mr. Wolf," said Roger. "I haven't felt as if you ought to put money
in. If anything should go wrong and you should lose by it, I'd never
forgive myself."
Papa Wolf put his hand on Roger's knee. "Roger, I've known you since you
were born and I loved your father. He died a disappointed man. When I
think of the things Ernie said this morning I realize that perhaps if
I'd been a better patriot I wouldn't have let a man so valuable to the
community die a disappointed man. Now you're an even more valuable man
than your father was, and so is Ernest. Shall I wait for outsiders to do
for my son and your father's son? Or shall I help you organize so as to
develop this hot country for America? And again I did my only son an
unkindness in not understanding his work--almost a fatal unkindness.
Suppose he had left us for Germany. Shall I not make it up to him? And
lastly, my son treated you dishonorably. Shall he and I not together try
to make it up?"
Roger's tense face worked.
"Now, don't speak! I know how you feel," cried Papa. "Now I have more
than enough tucked away for Mamma and me. And I have two friends, one in
the brewery, one in the bank. We can organize a company. We have Dick's
ranch and the turquoise mine and Ernest's and your plant. We can get
plenty of money. I'll make all those Maennerchors come down here. We'll
irrigate this whole desert. We'll open up mines--we'll--"
He got up to pace the floor. "Why there's an empire here for Uncle Sam
that the Reclamation Service can't handle. We'll do it."
"Roger has talked of Asia Minor," said Dick, with twinkling eyes.
"Well, we'll tackle that later," replied Papa dreamily. "America is a
good field. Dean, are you coming in with us?"
"Thanks," returned the Dean. "But Ernest and I have another job,
fighting _furor Teutonicus_ up at the university. But I'll be on hand
for such advice as I can give."
"I think," Papa went on after a brisk nod, "we'll spend a month or so
down here, Mamma and I. Ernest, you can go on up and open the house and
we'll be back after Christmas. If all works well, I'll have to spend a
part of each year down here. Dick, can't you get those Indians you talk
of to build Mamma and Ernie and me a little house, near by? Then you
and Elsa can have this and Charley and Roger must build them a little
nest somewhere. And we all are fixed, see!"
There was a little pause, then Elsa ran across the room and threw
herself in her father's arms. "Oh, Papa! Papa! I never knew what a saint
you were until now."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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