“Gee, but I’m glad to see you!” John exclaimed boisterously, slapping Jim on the back.
He insisted that Jim share his room and allowance, but Jim had no intention of being dependent on anyone. He shoveled snow, cared for the furnaces in the college dormitory, sawed wood and split kindling for the families near the campus, and by working early and late managed to remain in the college and even won the scholarship in mathematics. The first money he earned above his living expenses was sent back to pay the debt he had incurred for his journey.
He and John now shared room and funds on equal terms and Jim, by imperceptible degrees, assumed his old responsibility for John’s welfare and progress.
John had never really decided what his profession or occupation should be. Jim brought the question up by declaring that he did not intend to follow a stated college course but planned to fit himself to be an architect. John believed himself a born artist and talked of studies in Rome and Paris after his course in college was ended. One day he rushed into the room and flung his cap into a corner.
“Jim!” he cried enthusiastically, “I’ve decided to be an architect too!” He went on to talk of the opportunities of the true artist in a profession that had lured the greatest masters from the Greeks to Michelangelo.
“But modern architecture is more of a science than an art,” Jim pointed out. “The calculations of stresses and strength of materials has more to do with it than the ‘visions of a dream in marble’ you are talking about.”
However, John was not to be dissuaded and the two boys were soon entered in the special courses marked in the institution’s catalogue as leading to proficiency in architectural science.
John’s difficulty with mathematics was a handicap in most of these courses, and Jim had to help him in his work as in the days of their early boyhood. Notwithstanding this aid, John (who always took high marks in more general courses) found it hard to keep pace with his fellows, and, after the end of the first semester, decided to abandon their plan. It was only Jim’s initiative and generous giving of time to help him that decided John on the continuation of their design.
John always went home for the holidays and vacations, while Jim stayed on alone in the almost empty dormitory, working and studying.
The characteristics of the two boys became more evident as they approached majority. John conceived confidence in anybody who pleased him, each new acquaintance possessing, for the time being, all the perfections. Jim developed an almost uncanny insight into the motives of those around him, and was slow to form friendships.
“Never mind what people say,” he would tell John. “Fix your attention on finding out why they say it. That’s the way to get at things.”
When they graduated, or rather, completed their courses, for neither received his degree, Jim began work at once in an architect’s office in the college town, and settled down with his customary methodical perseverance to make a place for himself. John returned home for a few months and then persuaded his parents to send him to the Art School in Chicago to study what he felt to be the higher aspects of his profession.
Soon after his entrance into the School of Art he returned to painting, and left designing to study oils and watercolor work. The former companions were separated but exchanged frequent letters and remained as close friends as ever. John always thought of Jim as “good old Jim.” Jim never quite analyzed his feelings for John, much as he loved to evaluate the motives of others. He had always needed and would always need someone to care for, and John was in his life. He did not go further than this.
A year after their separation, Jim’s employer gave him a share in the small business, and, dying a few months later, left Jim in full charge of his affairs. Jim, whose success and promise had been noticed by many, easily borrowed enough capital to buy the business outright from the heirs, and in a brief period had paid his debt and won the independent opportunity of which he had dreamed for years.
It was not many months after this that John, in one of his letters, interested his friend by announcing that he had fallen in love, and by raving in a school boy fashion over the object of his devotion. Jim for some time had considered the wisdom of transferring his business to Chicago. It seemed to have reached the limit of development in the little college town, and he was anxious for a field that put no restrictions on his ability. John’s letter spurred him to a decision as to the future and he replied with the news that he was coming to the city himself, and asked John to meet him at the station. At their first sight of each other they renewed the old familiar relation.
John discussed everything with all his former frankness and enthusiasm and Jim, listening, felt more than ever that John was his to care for and watch over.
“But what are you going to do to support a wife?” was Jim’s first question.
“Jim, I’m through with experiments. I’m going to work,” replied John earnestly.
“Where?” asked Jim.
“I’ve got a place as a draughtsman with Layard’s, a big building supply firm here,” the younger man explained. “Life is serious now and I’m going to do something.”
Jim said no more.
The following day John took him to call on Lucy Merwent.
The two young men went into partnership a few weeks before John and Lucy were married and it was not many months before it was evident that the business venture was succeeding on a fairly safe basis.
Nora Stimpson, the red-haired art student of Miss Storms’ first party, called on Lucy after the wedding. She also came to the
