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 There's nothing wrong about making money. But, by George, to hear father talk you'd say I was out for murder. It's been all right for me to go out for money to put myself through Northwestern and to help at home; that's been right because he's kept on supposing that in the end I'd step into the ministry. But the ten thousand I took from Mr. Fuller has settled that, anyway. So much is over."

He snatched his arm from about her to pull at the wheel as the draw of the drift caused the wheel to oppose him. When he had the drift beaten:

"We're going to make money, Alice! I'm going to have the agency for Hamilton cars—mighty good cars, with square, decent value in them and a fair profit on every job we sell. We're going to pay back Mr. Fuller with interest and then bank some of our money so we'll always have something back of us and earning a little for us, too. There's nothing wrong in that; not even father could say so. We're going to spend some on ourselves in living; and we're going to live fairly well, I hope. We're going to give away some more money. I couldn't mention that to father; he'd think I was throwing it up to him and he wouldn't take anything more from me—or let mother take it. But I'll have the money for them and for ourselves. Not having money is—is—you've never known and you'll never know, if I can help it, how horrible it is! But it's horrible, horrible!" he said again, not meaning to but because he had to.

"Davey!" was all Alice said; and he felt the firm, gentle clasp of her fingers on his forearm. He could