"Yes, all but this little bit of carving. That Johnson started me on. The rest of it is mine." "It's mighty good," said Paul, walking around it. "Straighten that leg out by amputating it just below the knee and it will------" "Yes, I knew you would laugh at me. All the teachers do," wailed Louis. "No, I'm not laughing at you, Louis. You have done splendid work. But you mustn't feel badly to have your faults pointed out. That is the way to learn. If you hadn't been in quite such a hurry you would have made a better job, wouldn't you? Your fault, one of your faults, is lack of patience and thorough painstaking over details. Isn't that so?" "It must be. All my teachers say so all the time." "Well, if they say so all the time there must be some reason for it. But honest, now, the writing desk is not a bad piece of work viewed as a whole." Louis felt somewhat mollified and after his father had made one or two more comments they started down stairs. When they reached the hall, the telephone rang again. "Go into the library and wait for me," Paul said as he went to the instrument. This time it was Rogers, the doubtful member of the committee. He wanted to ask one or two questions about the bill and Paul quickly and eagerly answered him. "But we need you right here now. We can't do anything without you. Burke is mad and we can't depend on him. You've just got to come if you want to see the thing through." "I can't come, Rogers. You can whip them into line." Paul rapidly shot directions at him. "Stand by the thing for my sake if not for the sake of the bill. Don't go back on your promise." "Promise! What's become of yours? The thing is impossible without you. I can't do anything with Burke and the rest of the committee are hot over your absence. Don't blame anyone but yourself when you read the morning paper." Paul started to answer, but the committeeman had finished, and after hesitating over the matter he went into the library and resumed his questions with Louis. "After the manual training, which one of your studies do you take to most?" "Oh, I don't like any of them. Chemistry, I guess." "Do you like mathematics?" "I don't mind, but I want to go into business, father. I want to quit school altogether and go into business." "What business?" "Any kind. I want to make money." "What do you want to make money for?" "What does any one want money for? I want to buy----" "Go on. Tell me exactly." "Well, clothes and--and--I want things, so I can go out and be with other fellows, and have something to spend--and------" In his burst of unconcealed eagerness to get out of school Louis was really revealing to his father some of the actual reasons for wanting to give up his studies, and as Paul listened to him he felt that the boy's eagerness went even farther. He determined to be very frank with him and get at the bottom of the thing if possible.