and could appreciate, step by step, how well you were doing, how
much you were giving up to do it, how much power you were gaining
by that long sacrifice. I've respected you through these years of
commonplace, and I've known how much more courage it meant in a
pleasure-loving lad such as you than it would have meant in a
serious person such as I am--such as Ted and Harry are, to an
extent, also." The older man, proud and strong and reserved,
turned on his son such a shining face as the boy had never seen.
"That boyish failure isn't wiped out, Johnny, for I shall remember
it as the corner-stone of your career, already built over with
an honorable record. You've made good. I congratulate you and
I honor you."

The boy never knew how he got home. He knocked his shins badly
on a quite visible railing and it was out of the question to
say a single word. But if he staggered it was with an overload
of happiness, and if he was speechless and blind the stricken
faculties were paralyzed with joy. His father walked beside
him and they understood each other. He reeled up the streets
contented.

That night there was a family dinner, and with the coffee his
father turned and ordered fresh champagne opened.

"We must have a new explosion to drink to the new superintendent
of the Oriel mine," he said. Johnny looked at him surprised,
and then at the others, and the faces were bright with the same
look of something which they knew and he did not.

"What's up?" asked Johnny. "Who's the superintendent of the