suggested the big man soberly after a moment

"Don't say!" he cried; "what's the matter?" "The matter is that I'm no good," said Bob evenly, and without the slightest note of complaint. "Tell me about it," suggested the big man soberly after a moment. "I'm pretty close to Fox. Perhaps----." "It isn't a case of pull," Bob interrupted him pleasantly. "It's a case of total incompetence." "That's a rather large order for a husky boy like you," said the older man with a sudden return to his undertone of bantering jollity. "Well, I've filled it," said Bob. "That's the one job I've done good and plenty." "Haven't stolen the stove, have you?" "Might better. It couldn't be any hotter than Collins." The stranger chuckled. "He _is_ a peppery little cuss," was his comment. "What did you do to him?" Bob told him, lightly, as though the affair might be considered humorous. The stranger became grave. "That all?" he inquired. Bob's self-disgust overpowered him. "No," said he, "not by a long shot." In brief sentences he told of his whole experience since entering the business world. When he had finished, his companion puffed away for several moments in silence. "Well, what you going to do about it?" he asked. "I don't know," Bob confessed. "I've got to tell father I'm no good. That is the only thing I can see ahead to now. It will break him all up, and I don't blame him. Father is too good a man himself not to feel this sort of a thing." "I see," said the stranger. "Well, it may come out in the wash," he concluded vaguely after a moment. Bob stared out at the river, lost in the gloomy thoughts his last speech had evoked. The stranger improved the opportunity to look the young man over critically from head to foot. "I see you're a college man," said he, indicating Bob's fraternity pin.