He has
received a general, not a special, college education."
"Well!" challenged Helen.
"Barring the last, these are exactly the qualifications of a good
bull-terrier."
"Oh!" cried the girl indignantly, and half rising. "You are insulting!"
"No," denied Darrow. "Not that--never to you, Helen, and you know it!
I'm merely talking sense. Leaving aside the minor consideration that I
am myself looking for employment, what use has a scientist for a
bull-terrier? Jack has no aptitude for science; he has had none of the
accurate training absolutely essential to science. He probably wouldn't
be interested in science. At the moment he happens to admire me, and
I'm mighty glad and proud that it is so. But that doesn't help. If I
happened to be a saloon man, Jack would quite as cheerfully want to be
a barkeeper. I'd do anything in the world to help Jack; but I'm not the
man. You want to hunt up somebody that needs a good bull-terrier. Lots
do."
"I hate such a cold-blooded way of going at things!" cried the girl. "You
show no more interest in Jack than if--than if--"
Darrow smiled whimsically. "Indeed I do, Helen," he said quietly; "that is
why I don't want to touch his life. Science would ruin him quicker than an
office--in the long run. What he wants is a job of action--something out
West--or in the construction of our great and good city. Now, if I had a
political pull, instead of a scientific twist, I could land Jack in a
minute.
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