He now came to look back on his college triumphs with an exaggerated but wholesome reaction.  His athletic prowess had given him great prominence in college circles.  Girls had been flattered at his attention; his classmates had deferred to his skill and experience; his juniors had, in the manner of college boys, looked up to him as to a demi-god.  Then for the few months of the football season the newspapers had made of him a national character.  His picture appeared at least once a week; his opinions were recorded; his physical measurements carefully detailed.  When he appeared on the streets and in hotel lobbies, people were apt to recognize him and whisper furtively to one another.  Bob was naturally the most modest youth in the world, and he hated a “fuss” after the delightfully normal fashion of normal boys, but all this could not fail to have its subtle effect.  He went out into the world without conceit, but confident of his ability to take his place with the best of them.

His first experience showed him wholly second in natural qualifications, in ability to learn, and in training to men subordinate in the business world.

“I’m just plain dub,” he told himself.  “I thought myself some pumpkins and got all swelled up inside because good’ food and leisure and heredity gave me a husky build!  Football!  What good does that do me here?  Four out of five of these rivermen are huskier than I am.  Me a business man!  Why I can’t seem even to learn the first principles of the first job of the whole lot!  I’ve got to!” he admonished; himself grimly.  “I hate a fellow who doesn’t make good!"’ and with a very determined set to his handsome chin he hurled the whole force of his young energies at those elusive figures that somehow would lie.

The week slipped by in this struggle.  It was much worse than in the Chicago office.  There Bob was allowed all the time he thought he needed.  Here one task followed close on the heels of another, without chance for a breathing space or room to take bearings.  Bob had to do the best he could, commit the result to a merciful providence, and seize the next job by the throat.

One morning he awoke with a jump to find it was seven o’clock.  He had heard neither whistle, and must have overslept!  Hastily he leaped into his clothes, and rushed out into the dining room.  There he found the chore-boy leisurely feeding a just-lighted kitchen fire.  To Bob’s exclamation of astonishment he looked up.

“Sunday,” he grinned; “breakfus’ at eight.”

The week had gone without Bob’s having realized the fact.

Mrs. Hallowell came in a moment later, smiling at the winning, handsome young man in her fat and good-humoured manner.  Bob was seized with an inspiration.

“Mrs. Hallowell,” he said persuasively, “just let me rummage around for five minutes, will you?”

“You that hungry?” she chuckled.  “Law!  I’ll have breakfast in an hour.”