"I don't want to be a part of it," said Bibbs, with unwonted decision.
"I want to keep to myself, and I'm doing it now. I couldn't, if I
went down there with you. I'd be swallowed into it. I don't care for
money enough to--"

"No," his father interrupted, still dangerously quiet. "You've
never had to earn a living. Anybody could tell that by what you say.
Now, let me remind you: you're sleepin' in a pretty good bed; you're
eatin' pretty fair food; you're wearin' pretty fine clothes. Just
suppose one o' these noisy housekeepers--me, for instance--decided
to let you do your own housekeepin'. May I ask what your proposition
would be?"

"I'm earning nine dollars a week," said Bibbs, sturdily. "It's
enough. I shouldn't mind at all."

"Who's payin' you that nine dollars a week?"

"My work!" Bibbs answered. "And I've done so well on that clipping-
machine I believe I could work up to fifteen or even twenty a week
at another job. I could be a fair plumber in a few months, I'm sure.
I'd rather have a trade than be in business--I should, infinitely!"

"You better set about learnin' one pretty dam' quick!" But Sheridan
struggled with his temper and again was partially successful in
controlling it. "You better learn a trade over Sunday, because you're
either goin' down with me to my office Monday morning--or--you can go
to plumbing!"