CHAPTER SEVEN
Ideas flit into and out of the normal young mind like bees buzzing about a hive; each may contribute its trifle of honey, though it is highly probable a notable percentage are drones. In any event the coming of a single idea is no hive-bursting occasion. The arrival of an idea in Angus Burke’s mind was comparable to a freshet in a mountain brook. While the flood continues the brook has neither time nor inclination for anything else. The freshet becomes an obsession with the brook. So Angus Burke’s first adventure in thought possessed him utterly as the spring flood possesses the banks between which it rushes…. To stand up for himself!…
On the morning which followed Angus crossed the street to the post office for Dave Wilkins, It was but a step and he crossed hastily, timorously. Midway he caught sight of young Malcolm Crane and Lydia Canfield emerging from the door with letters in their hand—Lydia’s a letter from a distant father from whom she
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