Olaf obeyed, though reluctantly, and presently he was deep amongst the problems of the inventor. Lars Larssen watched the boy with a tenderness that few would have given him credit for.

"I've got it! Look, Dad!" cried the boy excitedly, and began to explain his idea and his tangled drawing.

"Good! That's what I want from you. Now, don't you feel better at having worked out the idea all on your own?"

"Yes, Dad. I'll go to Mr Chips at once and get it made. In which part of the ship does he live?"

"You must find that out yourself."

"How much shall I offer him?"

"Don't offer him anything. Make friends with him, and he'll do it for you for nothing."

"But I always give people money to do things for me."

"That's a bad habit. Drop it. Get things done for you for nothing."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to be a business man when you grow up, and not merely a spender of money."

"What does a business man mean exactly?"

"A ruler of men."

The boy looked troubled again. His confusion of thoughts sorted themselves into his declaration: "I don't want to be a ruler of men; I want people to like me."

"That's a poor ambition."

"Why?"

"Mostly anyone wants that. It's a sign of weakness. Drop it."

"What ought I to want?"

"People to fear you."

"Why should they be afraid of me, Dad?"

"For one thing, because some day you'll have all my money and all my power. Just how big that is you can't realise yet. That's one reason.

The other reason must lie with yourself--you must make yourself strong and afraid of nothing. How many fights did you have this term, before you got ill?"

"Only one."

It was clear from the boy's downcast eyes that he had been beaten in his fight.

"That's bad. That's disobeying my orders. Didn't I tell you to fight every boy in the school until they acknowledged you master?"

"I'm not strong enough."

"You must make yourself strong enough. It's not a question of muscle, but will-power. When you're properly over this illness, I'll pick you out a school in England with about thirty or forty boys of your own age.

They're soft, these English boys, softer than Americans. I want you to lick your way through them, and then I'll take you back to the States to polish up on Americans."

After a pause came this question: "Dad, must I have all your money when I grow up? Couldn't some one else have some of it?"

"Sonny, don't look at it that way. You're born to an empire; try and make yourself fit for it. I'm building it for you. It'll be a glorious inheritance.... Now throw those wheels overboard, and run along and find Mr Chips."

Presently Arthur Dean came to the private deck to ask if Larssen had any orders for him. He was acting as interim private secretary.

The shipowner dictated a few messages to be sent by wireless, and then remarked:

"When you're back in London, I suppose you'll be going to see your young lady as well as your parents?"

Dean blushed.

"Taking her back any presents?"

"Yes, sir."

"A ring?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Well, I don't doubt that'll come in its own good time."

"You don't think I ought to----?" began Dean tentatively.

"I don't interfere in that. It's your own private affair and no concern of mine. You can afford to marry her on your present salary. If she's a girl likely to make a good wife, I hope you _will_ marry her. I like my employees to be married. It's healthy for them and makes them better business men. Is she an ambitious girl?"

"I hardly know that."

"Well, my advice to you is this: marry someone ambitious. You'll need it. You're inclined to weaken."

"It's very good of you to take such an interest in me."

"I like you. I want to make you one of my right-hand men eventually. Now I want to say this in particular: keep business affairs to yourself."

"I'll certainly do so, sir."

"Don't talk about them even to your parents, even to your young lady.

I'm paying you a very good salary for a man of your age, and I expect a closed mouth about my affairs."

"Of course."

"Get the reason for it. This deal I'm engaged on is a big thing, and there are plenty of City people in London who'd like to know just what I'm planning, and just why Matheson and I sent you to Canada. I want you to keep them guessing until the scheme's floated. D'you get that?"

"Certainly, sir! You may rely on me not to say anything about your business affairs to anybody. I know how things leak around once anybody's told."

"That's right! Now send off those wireless messages, and then go and amuse yourself for the rest of the morning. Cabin and all quite comfortable?"