Thompson looked at Tommy not at all quizzically, not at all interestedly, not at all curiously, but steadily, without any suggestion of the imminence of either a smile or a frown.
Tommy returned the look neither nervously nor boldly. He was certain that Thompson knew men in overalls and men in evening clothes, old men and young men, equally well, equally understandingly.
“What makes you think,” asked Thompson, “that you have the makings of a man in you?” It was plain that he was not only listening, but observing.
Tommy had expected that question, but not in those words. The directness of it decided him to reply slowly, as the reasons came to him:
“I know I have to be one. I have nobody to help me. I have no grudge against anybody. I have no grouch against the world. I am not looking for enemies, but I have no right to expect favors. I never had a condition at college, but I am no learned scholar. I made the Scrub, but never played on the Varsity. I held class offices, but never pulled wires for myself. I did foolish things, but I'd as soon tell them to you. I don't know any more than any chap of my age knows who never thought of being where I am to-day, and never studied for a profession. I have troubles--family troubles not of my own making--and they came to me suddenly; in fact, the day before yesterday. It was up to me to whine or to fight. I am here.”
Thompson saw Tommy's face, Tommy's squared shoulders, and Tommy's clenched fists. “I see!” he said. “And what do you want to do?”
“Anything!” said Tommy, quickly. He saw Thompson's eyes. He corrected himself. “Something!”
“I graduated last week,” said Tommy, barely keeping his impatience out of his voice.
“Not for myself. I solicited 'ads' for the college paper.”
“Yes, I did well. I got 'ads' the paper never had before.”
“No. It was this way: I thought that the only advertisers who rightly should be in the paper already were there. What we had to offer was limited. I decided that the paper was an institution worth supporting by others than the tradesmen who sold goods to the fellows. So I tackled the fathers of my friends, men who ought to take an interest in the college without thinking of dollars and cents. And I tackled bank presidents and railroad men and manufacturers, put it up to them to do good to the paper without expecting direct returns. I asked for 'ads' in their homes on the ground that it was not business, anyhow, which it wasn't. It may be bad form to try to make money for yourself out of your hosts, but I didn't think it was bad form to ask a man anywhere to subscribe to a worthy object. I didn't pose as a live wire. Anyhow, they came across. I couldn't do that to-day. I wouldn't ask Mr. Willetts at his home or on his yacht to buy one of your cars, but I would in his office.”