“No; that isn’t necessary. I think we can settle the matter now. It was all right for those people to use the farm as a playground during the summer, but this idea of building a house for them won’t do. We’ve got to view these things practically, Shep. You’re letting your sentimental feelings run away with you. If I let you go ahead with that scheme, it would be unfair to all the other employers in town. If you stop to think, you can see for yourself that for us to build such a clubhouse would cause dissatisfaction among other concerns I’m interested in. And there’s another thing. Your people have done considerable damage--breaking down the shrubbery and young trees I’d planted where I’d laid out the roads. I hadn’t spoken of this, for I knew how much fun you got out of it, but as for spending twenty thousand dollars for a clubhouse and turning the whole place over to those people, it can’t be done!” “Well, father, of course I can see your way of looking at it,” Shepherd said with a crestfallen air. “I thought maybe, just for a few years----” “That’s another point,” Mills interrupted. “You can’t give it to them and then take it away. Such people are bound to be unreasonable. Give them an inch and they take a mile. You’ll find as you grow older that they have precious little appreciation of such kindnesses. Your heart’s been playing tricks with your head. I tell you, my dear boy, there’s nothing in it; positively nothing!” Mills rose, struck his hands together smartly and laid them on his son’s shoulders, looking down at him with smiling tolerance. Shepherd was nervously fumbling Storrs’s sketches, and as his father stepped back he hastily thrust them into his pocket. “You may be right, father,” he said slowly, and with no trace of resentment. “Storrs, you said?” Mills inquired as he opened a cabinet door and took out his hat and light overcoat. “Is he the young man Millie introduced me to?” “Yes; that tall, fine-looking chap; a Tech man; just moved here--friend of Bud Henderson’s.” “I wasn’t quite sure of the name. He’s an architect, is he?” asked Mills as he slowly buttoned his coat. “Yes; I met him at the Freemans’ and had him for lunch at the club. Freeman is keen about him.” “He’s rather an impressive-looking fellow,” Mills replied. “Expects to live here, does he?” “Yes. He has no relatives here; just thought the town offered a good opening. His home was somewhere in Ohio, I think.” “Yes; I believe I heard that,” Mills replied carelessly. “You have your car with you?” “Yes; the runabout. I’ll skip home and dress and drive over with Connie. We’re going to the Claytons’ later.”