“I won’t, Roger,” he repeated.  “And I’ve told ’em so.”

I remained silent for a moment, gazing at the portrait of John Benham on the wall opposite me.  He had a jaw like Jerry’s, not so well turned and the lips were thinner, a hard man, a merciless man in business, a man of mystery and hidden impulses.  The boy was keen enough, I knew, when it came to a question of right and wrong.  There was some ancient history for Jerry to learn.  Did Jerry already suspect the kind of man his father had been?

“You’re sure that you’re right?” I asked quietly.

“Positive.  It’s all very well to talk about those my money helps, but it harms, too.  If anything gets in the way of Ballard’s interests or mine, he crushes ’em like egg-shells.  My father—­”

Jerry hesitated, repeated the word and then paced the floor silently for a moment.  I thought it wise to remain silent.

“Oh, I know what it all means to those men.  Power!  Always!  More power!  And I don’t want it if it’s going to make me the kind of man that Henry Ballard is, blind to beauty, deaf to the voice of compassion, a piece of machinery, as coldly scientific in his charities as he is in the—­”

“But that’s necessary, Jerry,” I broke in.  “A man of Henry Ballard’s wealth must plan to put his money where it will do the most good—­”

“Or where it will magnify the name of Henry Ballard,” he said quickly.  “Oh, I don’t know much yet, but I’m pretty sure that kind of thing isn’t what Christ meant.”

He threw out his arms in a wide gesture.  “Roger, I’ve talked to some of these poor people.  There’s something wrong with these charity organizations.  They’re too cold.  They patronize too much.  They don’t get under the skin.”

“You haven’t wasted a great deal of time,” I remarked when he paused.

He smiled.  “Well, you know, I couldn’t sit in a club window and watch the buses go by.”

“Have you declared these revolutionary sentiments to your executors?” I asked after awhile.

He threw himself in an armchair and sighed.

“I suppose I ought to say that Mr. Ballard has been very patient with me.  He was.  I told him that I didn’t want any more money, that I had enough.  I think I rather startled him, for he looked at me for a long while over the half-moons in his glasses before he spoke.

“’I don’t think you realize the seriousness (he wanted to say enormity but didn’t) of your point of view.  There’s no standing still in this world,’ he said.  ’If you don’t go ahead, you’re going to go back.  That’s all very well for you personally if you choose to remain idle, but it won’t do where great financial interests are involved.  I want to try to make you understand that a going concern moves of its own momentum.  But it’s so heavy that once you stop it, it won’t go again.  The thought of abandoning your career is in itself hazardous.  I hope you will not repeat the sentiments you have expressed to me elsewhere.  If the street heard what you have just said there would be a fall in your securities which might be disastrous.’