Jock twirled a coat button uncomfortably "Well, quite a lot. But a
fellow's got to have money to keep up appearances. A lot of the
fellows in my crowd have more than I. There are clothes, and tobacco,
and then flowers and cabs for the skirts--girls, I mean, and--"

"Kid," impressively, "I want you to sit down over there in that plush
chair--the red one, with the lumps in the back. I want you to be
uncomfortable. From where I am sitting I can see that in you there is
the making of a first-class cad. That's no pleasant thing for a mother
to realize. Now don't interrupt me. I'm going to be chairman, speaker,
program, and ways-and-means committee of this meeting. Jock, I got my
divorce from your father ten years ago. Now, I'm not going to say
anything about him. Just this one thing. You're not going to follow in
his footsteps, Kid. Not if I have to take you to pieces like a nickel
watch and put you all together again. You're Emma McChesney's son, and
ten years from now I intend to be able to brag about it, or I'll want
to know the reason why--and it'll have to be a blamed good reason."

"I'd like to know what I've done!" blurted the boy. "Just because I
happened to come here a few hours before you expected me, and just
because you saw me talking to a girl! Why--"

"It isn't what you've done. It's what those things stand for. I've
been at fault. But I'm willing to admit it. Your mother is a working
woman, Jock. You don't like that idea, do you? But you don't mind
spending the money that the working woman provides you with, do you?
I'm earning a man's salary. But Jock, you oughtn't to be willing to
live on it.

"What do you want me to do?" demanded Jock. "I'm not out of high