XIX
To Bob's father Welton expressed himself in somewhat different terms.The two men met at the Auditorium Annex, where they promptly adjournedto the Palm Room and a little table.
"Now, Jack," the lumberman replied to his friend's expostulation, "Iknow just as well as you do that the kid isn't capable yet of handling aproposition on his own hook. It's just for that reason that I put him incharge."
"And Welton isn't an Irish name, either," murmured Jack Orde.
"What? Oh, I see. No; and that isn't an Irish bull, either. I put him incharge so he'd have to learn something. He's a good kid, and he'll takehimself dead serious. He'll be deciding everything that comes up all forhimself, and he'll lie awake nights doing it. And all the time thingswill be going on almost like he wasn't there!"
Welton paused to chuckle in his hearty manner.
"In other words, Bob is to hold the ends of the reins while these othermen drive," said his father, vastly amused. "That's more like it. I'dhate to bury a green man under too much responsibility."
"No," denied Welton, "it isn't that exactly. Somebody's got to boss therest of 'em. And Bob certainly is a wonder at getting the men to likehim and to work for him. That's his strong point. He gets on with them,and he isn't afraid to tell 'em when he thinks they're 'sojering' onhim. That makes me think: I wonder what kind of ornaments these waitersare supposed to be." He rapped sharply on the little table with hispocket-knife.
"It's up to him," he went on, after the waiter had departed. "If he'stoo touchy to acknowledge his ignorance on different points that comeup, and if he's too proud to ask questions when he's stumped, why, he'sgoing to get in a lot of trouble. If he's willing to rely on his men forknowledge, and will just see that everybody keeps busy and sees thatthey bunch their hits, why, he'll get on well enough."
"It takes a pretty wise head to make them bunch their hits," Ordepointed out, "and a heap of figuring."
"It'll keep him mighty busy, even at best," acknowledged Welton, "andhe's going to make some bad breaks. I know that."
"So does any education. Even at its worst this can't cost much money. Hecan't wreck things--the organization is too good--he'll just make 'emwobble a little. And this is a mighty small and incidental proposition,while this California lay-out is a big project. No, by my figuring Bobwon't actually do much, but he'll lie awake nights to do a hell of a lotof deciding, and----."
"Oh, I know," broke in Orde with a laugh; "you haven't changed an inchin twenty years--and 'it's not doing but deciding that makes a man,'" hequoted.
"Well, isn't it?" demanded Welton insistently.
"Of course," agreed Orde with another laugh. "I was just tickled to seeyou hadn't changed a hair. Now if you'd only moralize on square pegs inround holes, I'd hear again the birds singing in the elms by the dearold churchyard."
Welton grinned, a trifle shamefacedly. Nevertheless he went on with thedevelopment of his philosophy.
Orde ruminated over this for some time, sipping slowly between puffs athis cigar.
"Why wouldn't it be better to take him out to California now?" he askedat length. "You'll be building your roads and flumes and railroad,getting your mill up, buying your machinery and all the rest of it. Thatought to be good experience for him--to see the thing right from thebeginning."
"Bob is going to be a lumberman, and that isn't lumbering; it'sconstruction. Once it's up, it will never have to be done again. TheCalifornia timber will last out Bob's lifetime, and you know it. He'dbetter learn lumbering, which he'll do for the next fifty years, than tobuild a mill, which he'll never have to do again--unless it burns up,"he added as a half-humorous afterthought.
"Correct," Orde agreed promptly to this. "You're a wonder. When I founda university with my ill-gotten gains, I'll give you a job as professorof--well, of Common Sense, by jiminy!"