“I would rather plow with a tractor and sow wheat; or herd cattle; or raise pigs than build anything no matter how great. I could put my whole heart and soul into that work and enjoy it. I want space to do my thinking and to develop in. I want green grass under my feet and a blue sky overhead. It is too crowded here. There are just as big things to be done in one place as in another.” “Good gracious! Who put all that into your head? Or did you read it in some book?” “It has just been growing on me and with me. I must get away from here. Let me work out my own future.” “Suppose I should refuse to listen any further.” “Then I am afraid I should go anyway, not right now, perhaps, but at some future time. The thought of all this is bigger than I am, and some day, soon, it would get the better of me and I should be compelled to go.” “Well, well!” His father was obviously worried. “So you have made up your mind. You refuse to go back to your work here?” “I should rather not. And, let Wellman stay.” “I’ll see. Now you go straight home and wait for me there. This thing will have to be settled one way or the other.” As David left the building his mind was filled with so many things that it was impossible to think clearly on any one of them. Two things kept recurring to him, however, because they had been so unexpected. The first was that his father had taken sides with him in the controversy, had admitted that he was right and that Wellman was in the wrong; he had even gone so far as to volunteer to discharge the old and valued employe. And the second was that for the first time his parent had indicated a willingness to seriously listen to the thing he felt best suited him and for which he was eager to sacrifice his enviable prospects as a man of the business world. He could hardly wait to tell his mother. She had always been a sympathetic listener and while she had never greatly encouraged him in his ambition she had never discouraged him. It was, therefore, a source of disappointment to him to find upon reaching home that his mother was not there. She had an appointment for luncheon, the cook informed him, and would go to a club meeting after that. It was impossible to draw any further information from the cook. David suspected that she knew more, but to his casual remark that she must have decided rather suddenly to go, there came no response. Evidently the cook had orders not to talk, so he did not question her further. The afternoon seemed like a year. He tried to read a magazine; then a book, but after turning a few pages he was forced to admit that he did not know what he was reading about, so he closed it with a bang and calling Spike, his terrier, went for a walk in the garden.