The other would be for life."
"Not if I work up."
"Perhaps not; but there is no upper class in a shop. But you said
something about some drawings. Have you made some?"
"Yes."
"What are they?"
"These." And Allyn offered a half-dozen sheets of paper to his father.
Dr. McAlister glanced at them; then he put the reins into Allyn's hand.
"Here," he said; "you can drive. I want to look at these."
For some moments, there was a silence, while the doctor turned over the
papers and Allyn's heart thumped until it seemed to him as if it could be
heard distinctly. Then deliberately the doctor took off his glasses, shut
them into their case and put the case into his pocket.
"Allyn," he said slowly; "I don't know much about such things; but I
rather think that you have found your work. Some of these drawings are
well done. Where did you get your machines?"
"I made them up."
"Oh." The doctor's tone was more dry than he realized; but he was
unwilling, for the boy's own good, to show the pride he felt in his son.
"Suppose we talk this over, then, and see what plans we would better
make. I did want you to be a doctor, Allyn; it would have made me very
happy, but I think it isn't best for you. It doesn't seem to be just in
your line, and I don't believe in forcing you into the wrong profession.
Even if an engineer's life meant hard work and disagreeable people and
things around you, would you like to try it?"
"Yes.
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