“Keepin' books is a part of l'arnin' the business, and business is the way you're goin' to get your livin' by and by.”
“No, it isn't. I am going to be a writer.”
“Now DON'T say that silly thing again! I don't want to hear it.”
“Look here, boy: When I tell you or anybody else in this office to do or not to do a thing, I expect 'em to obey orders. And I tell you not to talk any more of that foolishness about bein' a writer. D'you understand?”
“All right, then, that much is settled. . . . Here! Where are you goin'?”
Albert had turned and was on his way out of the office. He stopped and answered over his shoulder, “I'm going home,” he said.
“Goin' HOME? Why, you came from home not more than an hour and a half ago! What are you goin' there again now for?”
“To pack up your things! To pack up--Humph! So you really mean it! You're really goin' to quit me like this? And your grandma, too!”
The young man felt a sudden pang of compunction, a twinge of conscience.
But the change in his attitude and tone came too late. Captain Lote's temper was boiling now, contradiction was its worst provocative.
“Goin' to quit!” he sneered. “Goin' to quit because you don't like to work. All right, quit then! Go ahead! I've done all I can to make a man of you. Go to the devil in your own way.”
“Go ahead! _I_ can't stop you. It's in your breed, I cal'late.”
That was sufficient. Albert strode out of the private office, head erect. Captain Zelotes rose and slammed the door after his departing grandson.
At ten that evening Albert was in his room, sitting in a chair by the window, gloomily looking out. The packing, most of it, had been done. He had not, as he told his grandfather he intended doing, left the office immediately and come straight home to pack. As he emerged from the inner office after the stormy interview with the captain he found Laban Keeler hard at work upon the books. The sight of the little man, so patiently and cheerfully pegging away, brought another twinge of conscience to the assistant bookkeeper. Laban had been such a brick in all their relationships. It must have been a sore trial to his particular, business-like soul, those errors in the trial balance. Yet he had not found fault nor complained. Captain Zelotes himself had said that every item concerning his grandson's mistakes and blunders had been dragged from Mr. Keeler much against the latter's will. Somehow Albert could not bear to go off and leave him at once. He would stay and finish his day's work, for Labe Keeler's sake.