ight past him--and when once they have done
that, he can never catch them again."

"But aren't there working chances just as well as studying chances,
father?"

"Of course there are, and the study must always be followed by
work--hard work, too--but the first is a mighty big help to the other.
Now I will gladly do all that I can to help you on with your studies, if
you will study; but if you won't, you must go to work, for I can't
afford to support you in idleness, and I wouldn't if I could."

"Well, I'll tell you what, father," said Glen, who was more inclined to
take his own way than one proposed by somebody else, "if you can help me
to the getting of a job, I'll try the work this summer, and when it
comes time for school to open again, I'll decide whether it shall be
work or study."

"All right, my boy, I'll do what I can to get you a place in the mill or
in Deacon Brown's store, whichever you prefer."

Now that a definite kind of work was proposed, it did not seem so very
desirable after all, and Glen doubted if he should like either the mill
or the store. Still he did not say so, but asked for a day longer in
which to decide, which was readily granted him.

At about the same time that evening, Binney Gibbs was saying to his
father, with a self-satisfied air,

"Isn't it a good thing that I have stuck to my books as I have, and not
wasted my time playing ball, or swimming, or doing the things that Glen
Matherson and the other fellows seem to consider so important?"

"Well, yes," replied Mr. Gibbs, a little doubtfully, "I suppose it is.
At the same time, Binney, I do wish you were a little stronger. I'm
afraid you'll find roughing it pretty hard."

"Oh, yes, I suppose physical strength was the most important thing when
you were young, father; but nowadays its brain-work that tells,"
answered Binney, with a slight tone of contempt for his father's
old-fashioned ideas. Binney was not a bad-hearted fellow--only spoiled.

The next day Glen did not feel like meeting any of his young companions.
He wanted to think over the several problems that had been presented to
him. So he wandered down to the river, where a fine new railroad-bridge,
in the building of which he had been greatly interested, was now
receiving its finishing touches. As he walked out towards the centre of
the graceful structure, admiring, as he had a hundred times before, the
details of its construction, its evident strength and airy lightness, h