“What do you think you could do?” “Oh, I don’t know. If it wasn’t so far from you and Mother I’d like to spend the winters trapping with Mr. Amesbury. Of course, though, I can’t do that. Couldn’t I have a job in your office, or get a berth on one of the ships?” “You might. You could start in at five or six dollars a week. That’s the usual thing. In a few years you’d probably be advanced to twenty or twenty-five dollars, and if you were very attentive to business, even more, say fifteen hundred or two thousand a year--and that’s a pretty high estimate, for the supply of untrained men is larger than the demand. You’d better keep at school, my son. The college-bred man has a much better chance of success in life than the man who has never been to college. What your future is to be, however, depends upon your own efforts and yourself.” They walked in silence for a while before Paul spoke. “Of course you’re right, Father. If you wish I’ll keep at school and go through college. But I’ve been ashamed of myself a good many times. I’ve been so selfish. I never thought of anybody but myself and my own pleasure before I went away. Being with Dan and Mr. Amesbury, and working, myself, has made me want to be more like them and do something worth while. Life would be pretty tiresome without anything to do but just loaf around.” Densmore placed his hand on Paul’s shoulder. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Paul. That’s the spirit that makes a real man. I’m afraid we coddled and indulged you until you were becoming spoiled.” “I failed in my examinations at school, too,” continued Paul, “but I won’t fail again. I’ll study now.” “That’s the way to talk, my son. Stick to it, and when you’re graduated from college you’ll be prepared, with a little training and experience, to take my place. That’s what I’m looking forward to.” “All right, Father. You’ve got my promise to do my best, and here’s my hand on it. It’s my chance and I’m going to make the most of it. But I wish--I wish Dan had a chance too.” “What kind of a chance do you want him to have?” “I--I don’t just know. Dan’s pretty independent. He wouldn’t take money from you unless he worked for it, and he has to work to help his folks. He wants to be a skipper some day.” “Do you think he’d like a berth on one of our steamers?” “Yes, I guess so--if he could go home sometimes to see his folks.” “That can be arranged.” And it was arranged. Dan was given a berth on a steamer plying between New York and South American ports, which he gratefully accepted. Paul was graduated from Princeton six years later, and after a year’s apprenticeship in his father’s office was appointed General Superintendent of the Atlantic and Pacific Steamship Company.