"How is that?" Darrell inquired, wondering at the pleasurable excitement
in the elder man's tones.
"We made a little change in the partnership to-day: Walcott is now an
equal partner with myself."
Darrell remained silent from sheer astonishment. Mr. Underwood evidently
considered his silence an indication of disapproval, for he continued: "I know you don't like the man, Darrell, so there's no use of arguing
that side of the question, but I tell you he has proved himself
invaluable to me. You might not think it, but it's a fact that the
business in this office has increased fifty per cent. since he came into
it. He is thoroughly capable, responsible, honest,--just the sort of man
that I can intrust the business to as I grow older and know that it will
be carried on as well as though I was at the helm myself."
"Still, a half-interest seems pretty large for a man with no more
capital in the business than he has," said Darrell, determined to make
no personal reference to Walcott.
"He has put in fifty thousand additional since he came in," Mr.
Underwood replied.
Darrell whistled softly.
"Oh, he has money all right; I'm satisfied of that. I'm satisfied that
he could have furnished the money to begin with, only he was lying low."
"Well, he certainly has nothing to complain of; you've done more than
well by him."
"No better proportionately than I would have done by you, my boy, if you
had come in with me last spring when I asked you to. I had this thing in
view then, and had made up my mind you'd make the right man for the
place, but you wouldn't hear to it."
"That's all right, Mr. Underwood," said Darrell; "I appreciate your kind
intentions just the same, but I am more than ever satisfied that I
wouldn't have been the right man for the place."
Both men were silent for some little time, but neither showed any
inclination to terminate the interview. Mr. Underwood was still pacing
back and forth, while Darrell had risen and was standing by the window,
looking out absently into the street.
"That isn't all of it, and I may as well tell you the rest," said Mr.
Underwood, suddenly pausing near Darrell, his manner much like a
school-boy who has a confession to make and hardly knows how to begin.
"Mr. Walcott to-day asked me--asked my permission to pay his addresses
to my daughter--my little girl," he added, under his breath, and there
was a strange note of tenderness in the usually brusque voice.
If ever Darrell was thankful, it was that he could at that moment look
the father squarely in the face. He turned, facing Mr. Underwood, his
dark eyes fairly blazing.