Tommy shook hands with his father a trifle too warmly, but he smiled pleasantly. “I'm leaving to-night on the nine-fourteen train, father.” He had studied the time-tables and he had solved the perplexing problem of how to raise the money to pay for the ticket. He had borrowed it from two of the friends with whom he had lunched at the club. It wasn't very much, but he wanted it to be clean money. Mr. Leigh looked surprised. Tommy felt the alarm and he hastened to explain. “It's the Day-ton man,” he said, and he handed the telegram to his father. Mr. Leigh kept his eyes on the yellow slip long enough to read the brief message two hundred times. At length he looked up and met his son's eyes. He made an obvious effort to speak calmly. “Have you thought carefully, Thomas? You know nothing about this man or the character of the work. It may mean merely a waste of time.” “I know that I want to work.” “Yes, but it ought to be work that you are competent to do.” “I am not competent to do any work that calls for experience and training. I have to learn, no matter where I go, and so--Father, I've got to pay back what you have--spent for me! I must! It will take time, but I'll do it, and the sooner I start, the better I'll feel.” Mr. Leigh looked at his son steadily, searchingly, almost hungrily. Then the old man's gaze wavered and indecision came into his eyes. “Thomas, I--” “I'll write you, father.” Tommy looked away, his father's face had grown haggard so suddenly. He heard the old man say, “You must take enough money to pay for your return in case you find the work uncongenial.” “I won't find any work uncongenial,” said Tommy, very positively. He knew! “One can never tell, my son. It is wise to be prepared. I will give you--” “No, no, father!” Then Tommy said, determinedly, “I cannot take any money from you.” He looked at his father full in the eye. Mr. Leigh hesitated. Then he asked: “How do you expect to go? You can't walk.” “No,” said Tommy, without anger; “I borrowed fifty dollars from friends.” Mr. Leigh turned his head away. Then he walked out of the room. They had very little to say to each other at dinner. It was after Tommy had ordered a taxi to take him and his trunk--if it had not been for the trunk he would not have dreamed of spending so much--to the station that Mr. Leigh said: “Thomas, I wish to explain to you--” “No, dad, please don't! There was such pain in the boy's voice that Mr. Leigh took a step toward him. Tommy was suffocating. “My son, there is no need of your feeling that you--” “I don't! I understand perfectly!” Tommy shook his head--without looking at his father. Mr. Leigh walked out of the room. Tommy took a step toward him and halted abruptly--something was choking him. He began to pace up and down the room, dreading the news of the arrival of the taxi and yet desiring it above all things.