“So we’ve felt,” went on Gideon, “that you might care to engage in some business here in Newbern—­establish yourself, soundly and prosperously, as it were, so that your son, though maturing under different circumstances, would yet feel a pride in your standing in the community.  Of course, this is tentative—­I’m sounding you, only.  You may have quite other ideas.  You may have laid out an entirely different future for yourself in some other field.  But I wanted to let you know that we stand ready to finance liberally any business you would care to engage in, either here or elsewhere.  It isn’t that we are crudely offering you money.  I wish you to understand that.  But we offer you help, both in money and counsel and influence.  In the event of your caring to establish yourself here, we would see that your foundation was substantial.  I think that says what I wanted to say.”

During much of this Dave Cowan had been musing in a lively manner upon the other’s supposition that he should have laid out a future for himself.  He was amused at the notion.  Of course he had laid out a future, but not the sort a Whipple would lay out.  He was already living his future and found it good.  Yet he felt the genuine good will of the old man, and sought words to reject his offer gracefully.  He must not put it so bluntly as he had to Judge Penniman.  The old man would not be able to understand that no bribe within human reach would tempt him to remain in Newbern Center; nor did he wish to be established on a sound basis anywhere else.  He did not wish to be established at all.

“I’m much obliged,” he said at last, “but I guess I won’t trouble you and your son in any way.  You see, I kind of like to live round and see things and go places—­I don’t know that I can explain it exactly.”

“We have even thought you might like to acquire the journal on which you are now employed,” said Gideon.  “We understand it can be bought; we stand ready to purchase it and make it over to you.”

“Any country newspaper can always be bought any time,” said Dave.  “Their owners always want to sell, and it’s mighty kind of you and your son, but—­well, I just couldn’t settle down to be a country editor.  I’d go crazy,” he confessed in a sudden burst of frankness, and beaming upon Gideon; “I’d as soon be shut in jail.”

“Or anything else you might think of,” said Gideon, cordially, “not necessarily in this town.”

“Well, I’d rather not; I guess I’m not one to have responsibilities; I wouldn’t have an easy minute spending your money.  I wouldn’t ever be able to feel free with it, not the way I feel with my own.  I guess I just better kind of go my own way; I like to work when I want to and stop when I want to, and no one having any right to ask me what I quit for and why don’t I keep on and make something of myself.  I guess it’s no good your trying to help me in any way.  Of course I appreciate it and all that.  It was kindly thought of by you.  But—­I hope my boy will be a credit to you just the same.”