Emma McChesney came over from her side of the table and stood very
close to her son. She laid one hand very lightly on his arm and
looked up into the sullen, angry young face.

[Illustration: "She laid one hand very lightly on his arm and
looked up into the sullen, angry young face"]

"I've seen older men than you are, Jock, and better men, and
bigger men, wearing that same look, and for the same reason. Every
ambitious man or woman in business wears it at one time or
another. Sooner or later, Jock, you'll have your chance at the
money end of this game. If you don't care about the thing you call
ethics, it'll be sooner. If you do care, it will be later. It
rests with you, but it's bound to come, because you've got the
stuff in you."

"Maybe," replied Jock the cynical. But his face lost some of its
sullenness as he looked down at that earnest, vivid countenance
up-turned to his. "Maybe. It sounds all right, Mother--in the
story books. But I'm not quite solid on it. These days it isn't
so much what you've got in you that counts as what you can bring
out. I know the young man's slogan used to be 'Work and Wait,' or
something pretty like that. But these days they've boiled it down
to one word--'Produce'!"

"The marvel of it is that there aren't more of 'em," observed Emma
McChesney sadly.

"More what?"