Getting settled in the little Dale Street apartment was, so far as Burke was concerned, a mere matter of moving from the hotel and dumping the contents of his trunk into his new chiffonier and closet. True, Helen, looking tired and flurried (and not nearly so pretty as usual), brought to him some borrowed tools, together with innumerable curtains and rods and nails and hooks that simply must be put up, she said, before she could do a thing. But Burke, after a half-hearted trial,--during which he mashed his thumb and bored three holes in wrong places,--flew into a passion of irritability, and bade her get the janitor who "owned the darn things" to do the job, and to pay him what he asked--'twould be worth it, no matter what it was! With a very hasty kiss then Burke banged out of the house and headed for the Denby Iron Works. It was not alone the curtains or the offending hammer that was wrong with Burke Denby that morning. The time had come when he must not only meet his fellow employees, and take his place among them, but he must face his father. And he was dreading yet longing to see his father. He had not seen him since he bade him good-night and went upstairs to his own room the month before--to write that farewell note. Once, since coming back from his wedding trip, he had been tempted to leave town and never see his father again--until he should have made for himself the name and the money that he was going to make. Then he would come back and cry: "Behold, this is I, your son, and this is Helen, my wife, who, you see, has _not_ dragged me down!" He would not, of course, _talk_ like that. But he would show them. He would! This had been when he first learned from Brett of the allowance-cutting, and of his father's implacable anger. Then had come the better, braver decision. He would stay where he was. He would make the name and the money right here, under his father's very eyes. It would be harder, of course; but there would then be all the more glory in the winning. Besides, to leave now would look like defeat--would make one seem almost like a quitter. And his father hated quitters! He would like to show his father. He _would_ show his father. And he would show him right here. And had not Helen, his dear wife, said that she would aid him? As if he could help winning out under those circumstances! It was with thoughts such as these that he went now to meet his father. Especially was he thinking of Helen, dear Helen,--poor Helen, struggling back there with those abominable hooks and curtains. And he had been such a brute to snap her up so crossly! He would not do it again. It was only that he was so dreading this first meeting with his father. After that it would be easier. There would not be anything then only just to keep steadily going till he'd made good--he and Helen. But now--father would be proud to see how finely he was taking it! With chin up and shoulders back, therefore, Burke Denby walked into his father's office.