He's got a good head, and he wanted to study for the ministry when they were all living together out on the farm; but his father had the old-fashioned ideas about that.

You know they used to think that any sort of stuff was good enough to make a preacher out of; but they wanted the good timber for business; and so the old man wouldn't let him.
You'll see the fellow; you'll like him; he's no fool, I can tell you; and he's going to be our publisher, nominally at first and actually when I've taught him the ropes a little." XII.
Fulkerson stopped and looked at March, whom he saw lapsing into a serious silence.

Doubtless he divined his uneasiness with the facts that had been given him to digest.

He pulled out his watch and glanced at it.
"See here, how would you like to go up to Forty-sixth street with me, and drop in on old Dryfoos?
Now's your chance.

He's going West tomorrow, and won't be back for a month or so.