“Yes, I paid him, Mr. Whipple. I am still behind two thousand, with the interest at the rate he charges his customers.” “He's a money-lender then?” Whipple said, lifting his brows. “Yes, he--” Fred hesitated a moment, and then finished, “He is a banker, in a small town in--” “Don't--don't tell me!” Whipple broke in. “Don't tell me a thing about him! I'm human to the core. I don't know why it is, but for a long time I have been jealous of his blood claim on you. He throwed you off, and I want to think that I have some sort of right to you. He never loved you as a natural father should, or he couldn't have driven you to the wall like he did, forcing you to live off among strangers, away from home-ties and all the associations of your young days. Oh, I know I have your good-will, my boy! I heard about the way you stood up for me during the strike my men tried to get up. One of the clerks told me of the nightmeeting that was held, and how you sprang into their midst like an infuriated tiger, and of the ringing speech you made about me and my fair treatment of them, and how they finally begged you not to report the matter and slunk away like egg-sucking dogs. You never would have mentioned it, but it got to me--it got to me.” “Oh, I only did my duty, Mr. Whipple.” Fred's face was dyed red. “I thought they were unreasonable, and could not help putting in a word of protest.” “You were the only one in the entire bunch that did it, all the same,” Whipple said, huskily. “Oh, I know they poke fun at me and laugh at my peculiarities, but I don't believe you ever did. I am coarse and awkward--I don't have to be told that; but I try to be genuine and fair to all mankind. But I've got away off from what I started to say. Fred, there never was a time when I felt more like one of my periodical sprees than right now. I have never been to New York, and I can't get over wanting to take it in. My wife don't care to go. She says such trips tire the very life out of her. She is younger than I am in years, but she ain't in spirit. I want you to lay off work for a week and go bumming with me. Somehow, I feel like if you'll go, it will be as if my own boy had lived and grown up and was taking the trip with me. I want to go by New Orleans and spend a day there, and then on to the East, through Georgia, Tennessee, and Virginia. What do you say, Fred? The expense is nothing. I want to celebrate. For a week I want to be a new man, and have a high old time.” “I should like it very much,” Walton said, “if you really want me to go.” “Well, pack your grip, and we'll be off day after tomorrow. We'll tell the boys that we have to see our New York importers and our sugar men in New Orleans, and they can guess the rest. Now, I'm going up to tell the old lady that it is settled, and she can sleep or do any other old thing she likes till, we come back. We'll have a rip-roaring time, Fred. We'll go all the gaits, even if we get put in the lock-up.” CHAPTER IX