Chapter 21 - Page 2

might know better in what light to regard this affair."

"Gladly--though there isn't much to tell. Just now I'm working on the P.R.R. as assistant to Runnels--the Master of Transportation, you know. I like the work and expect to be promoted. I have a little money--just enough to give me a fresh start if I should lose out here, and--oh, well, I'm poor but honest; I suppose that's about the size of it." He paused, vaguely conscious that he had not done himself justice. What else was there to say about Kirk Anthony? Then he added as an afterthought:

"My father is a railroad man, in Albany, New York."

"In what capacity is he employed, may I ask?" said Garavel, showing something like real interest.

Kirk grinned at this, and, seeing a copy of Bradstreet's on the banker's table, turned to his father's name, which he pointed out rather shamefacedly. Senor Garavel became instantly less distant.

"Of course the financial world knows Darwin K. Anthony," said he. "Even we modest merchants of the tropics have heard of him; and that his son should seek to win success upon his own merits is greatly to his credit. I congratulate you, sir, upon your excellent progress."

"I hope to make good," said Kirk, simply, "and I think I can." Then he flushed and hesitated as a realization of the situation swept over him. Could he gain the favor of Chiquita's father under false pretences? Surely it was only just that a man should stand upon his own merits, and yet--it didn't seem quite right. At length, he said, with an effort:

"I ought to tell you, sir, that I am not on good terms with my father, at present. In fact, he has cast me off. That is why I am here supporting myself by hard work, instead of living in idleness. But I'm beginning to like the work--and I'll make good-- I'll do it if only to show my father his mistake. That's what I care about most. I don't want his money. It's easier to make money than I thought. But I must succeed, for his sake and my own."

Despite his embarrassment, his face shone with sudden enthusiasm. He looked purposeful and aggressive, with a certain sternness that sat well upon his young manhood. Garavel lifted his brows.

"May I inquire the cause of this--estrangement?"

"Oh, general worthlessness on my part, I suppose. Come to think of it, I must have been a good deal of a cross. I never did anything very fierce, though." He smiled a little sadly. "I don't wonder that I fail to impress you."

A quick light of thought flashed through the banker's eyes. He was a keen judge of men.

"Well, well," he said, with a trace of impatience, "there is no need to go into the matter further. Your proposal is impossible-- for many reasons it is impossible, and yet--your spirit is commendable."