"
"You sure? I reckon you didn't. I offered--"
"I know, I know! But I can't take it."
"What's the matter with you?" Sheridan was half amazed, half
suspicious. "Your head feel funny?"
"I've never been quite so sane in my life," said Bibbs, "as I have
lately. And I've got just what I want. I'm living exactly the right
life. I'm earning my daily bread, and I'm happy in doing it. My
wages are enough. I don't want any more money, and I don't deserve
any--"
"Damnation!" Sheridan sprang up. "You've turned Socialist! You been
listening to those fellows down there, and you--"
"No, sir. I think there's a great deal in what they say, but that
isn't it."
Sheridan tried to restrain his growing fury, and succeeded partially.
"Then what is it? What's the matter?"
"Nothing," his son returned, nervously. "Nothing--except that I'm
content. I don't want to change anything."
"Why not?"
Bibbs had the incredible folly to try to explain. "I'll tell you,
father, if I can. I know it may be hard to understand--"
"Yes, I think it may be," said Sheridan, grimly. "What you say
usually is a LITTLE that way. Go on!"
Perturbed and distressed, Bibbs rose instinctively; he felt himself
at every possible disadvantage.
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