"No. Oh, of course there's plenty of chance to invest some money and be treasurer and all that, but I mean a regular job. I've tried everywhere." He hung his head dejectedly. "What seems to be the trouble?" "Those who know me know me too well. And those who don't know me--don't know me," he answered cryptically. "And I don't know anything, myself." "I'm so sorry," she said helplessly. "How do you suppose." He switched the topic suddenly. "How do you suppose a chap without any pull or any friends--a fellow like Good, for instance--gets jobs?" Before the echo of Roger's words had died from the air, a maid stood in the doorway, announcing the presence of Good himself. "Why not ask him?" said Judith obviously. And when the tall man came in, still dressed in his familiarly shabby brown suit, Roger put the question. "How did I get my first job," he repeated slowly, with a twinkle in his eye. "Well--I asked for one--and I kept on asking for one until I got it." "But that's just what I've done," protested Roger. "Perhaps you're more particular than I was." "I'm not a bit particular," cried the younger man earnestly. "I'd do anything. I've gotten over being particular." "No, my boy, you haven't," smiled Good. Then a faint shadow crossed his face, and he added softly, "You've never been hungry." Judith hoped that he would amplify the intimation. But as so often happened, he began a theme only to dismiss it. His tone changed and he turned briskly to her. "Well, Miss Wynrod, why don't you do something to help the lad?" "Me?" she echoed in surprise. "What can I do?" "Would you be willing to spend some money--quite a large sum, too, as such things go? Not very large for you, though," he added with the reflective candour that never failed to astonish and delight her. "Would you invest something--to see him well started in an enterprise of the utmost--value?" Roger's curiosity was plain on his face. But Good seemed only to watch Judith narrowly. She looked wonderingly up at him, as he stood, half-smiling, before her. "Have you a definite opening?" "Perhaps," he said quizzically. "On what does it depend?" she asked, fencing with him. "On you!" "Oh, please don't be absurd," she cried, as her interest got the better of her. "Do tell me what this is all about." "And where do I figure?" asked Roger, with a touch of annoyance in his voice. "As far as I can see you're talking to Judith. Where do I get off?" "It concerns her as much as it does you," said Good shortly, his smile fading and the vertical lines deepening between his eyes, a plain sign to Judith that he was far from badinage. "In fact," he added seriously, "I think it concerns her even more." "Then perhaps my absence would be preferable to my company?" demanded Roger with considerable asperity. Good's reply surprised both him and his sister.