“When he won the interstate he lapped up flattery like a thirsty pup, but his bluff was that it was only for the college he cared to win.” “Most of us have mixed motives.” “Not J. K. Reminds me of old Johnson's 'Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.'” Jeff straightened. “That won't do, Sam. I believe in J. K. You've got nothing against him except that you don't like him.” “Forgot you were his cousin, Jeff,” Miller grumbled. “But it's a fact that he works everybody to shove him along.” “He's only a kid. Give him time. He'll be a big help to any community.” “James K.'s biggest achievement will always be James K.” Jeff chuckled at the apothegm even while he protested. Sam capped it with another. “He's always sitting to himself for his own portrait.” “He'll get over that when he brushes up against the world.” Jeff added his own criticism thoughtfully. “The weak spot in him is a sort of flatness of mind. This makes him afraid of new ideas. He wants to be respectable, and respectability is the most damning thing on earth.” After Miller had left Jeff buckled down to Ely's “Political Economy.” He had not been at it long when James surprised him by dropping in. His host offered the easiest chair and shoved tobacco toward him. “Been pretty busy with the team, I suppose?” Jeff suggested. “It's taken a lot of my time, but I think I've put the athletic association on a paying basis at last.” “I see by your report in the 'Verdenian' that you made good.” “A fellow ought to do well whatever he undertakes to do.” Jeff grinned across at him from where he lay on the bed with his fingers laced beneath his head. “That's what the copybooks used to say.” “I want to have a serious talk with you, Jeff.” “Aren't you having it? What can be more important than the successes of James K. Farnum?” The senior looked at him suspiciously. He was not strongly fortified with a sense of humor. “Just now I want to talk about the failures of Jefferson D. Farnum,” he answered gravely. Jeff's eyes twinkled. “Is it worth while? I am unworthy of this boon, O great Cesar.” “Now that's the sort of thing that stands in your way,” James told him impatiently. “People never know when you're laughing at them. There is no reason why you shouldn't succeed. Your abilities are up to the average, but you fritter them away.” “Thank you.” Jeff wore an air of being immensely pleased. “The truth is that you're your own worst enemy. Now that you have taken to dressing better you are not bad looking. I find a good many of the fellows like you--or they would if you'd let them.” “Because I'm so well connected,” Jeff laughed. “I suppose it does help, your being my cousin. But the thing depends on you. Unless you make a decided change you'll never get on.” “What change do you suggest? Item one, please?” James looked straight at him. “You lack bedrock principles, Jeff.” “Do I?” “Take your habits. Two or three times you've been seen coming out of saloons.”