Youth Challenges | Page 2

stepping from one body, one identity,
to another. When he sat at that desk he would be taking up, not his own
career, but the career of the entity who had occupied this office through

generations, and would occupy it in perpetual succession. Vaguely he
began to miss something. The sensation was like that of one who has
long worn a ring on his finger, but omits to put it on one morning. For
that person there is a vague sense of something missing throughout the
day. Bonbright did not know what he felt the lack of--it was his
identity.
"For the next month or so," said his father, "about all you can hope to
do is to become acquainted with the plant and with our methods.
Rangar will always be at your disposal to explain or to give you desired
information. I think it would be well if he were to conduct you through
the plant. It will give you a basis to work from."
"The plant is still growing, I see," said Bonbright. "It seems as if a new
building were being put up every time I come home."
"Yes, growing past the prophecy of any of our predecessors," said his
father. He paused. "I am not certain," he said, as one who asks a
question of his inner self, "but I would have preferred a slower, more
conservative growth."
"The automobile has done it, of course."
"Axles," said his father, with a hint of distaste. "The manufacturing of
rear axles has overshadowed everything else. We retain as much of the
old business--the manufacturing of machinery--as ever. Indeed, THAT
branch has shown a healthy growth. But axles! A mushroom that has
overgrown us in a night."
It was apparent that Bonbright Foote VI did not approve of axles, as it
was a known fact that he frowned upon automobiles. He would not
own one of them. They were too new, too blatant. His stables were still
stables. His coachman had not been transmuted into a chauffeur. When
he drove it was in a carriage drawn by horses--as his ancestors had
driven.
"Yes... yes..." he said, slowly, with satisfaction, "it is good to have you
in the business, son. It's a satisfaction to see you sitting there. ... Now

we must look about to find a suitable girl for you to marry. We must
begin to think about Bonbright Foote VIII." There was no smile as he
said this; the observation was made in sober earnest. Bonbright saw
that, just as his ancestors looked to him to carry on the business, so they
looked to him to produce with all convenient dispatch a male successor
to himself. It was, so to speak, an important feature of his job.
"I'll send in Rangar," said his father, not waiting for Bonbright to reply
to the last suggestion, and walked with long-legged dignity out of the
room.
Bonbright rested his chin on his palm and stared gloomily at the wall.
He felt bound and helpless; he saw himself surrounded by firm and
dignified shades of departed Bonbright Footes whose collective wills
compelled him to this or prohibited that course of action.
Adventure, chance, were eliminated from his life. He was to be no
errant musician, improvising according to his mood; the score he was
to play was before him, and he must play it note for note, paying strict
attention to rests, keys, andantes, fortissimos, pianissimos. He had been
born to this, had been made conscious of his destiny from babyhood,
but never had he comprehended it as he did on this day of his
investiture.
Even the selection and courting of a mate, that greatest of all
adventures (to the young), was made humdrum. Doubtless his mother
already had selected the girl, and presently would marry him to her. ...
Somehow this was the one phase of the situation that galled him most.
"I'll see about that," he muttered, rebelliously, "I'll see about that."
Not that marriage was of importance to him yet, except as a thing to be
avoided until some dim future. Women had not assumed consequence
to him; his relations with them had been scant surface relations. They
were creatures who did or did not please the eye, who did or did not
dance well, who did or did not amuse one. That was all. He was only
twenty-three.

Rangar, his father's secretary, and the man who stood as shield between
Bonbright Foote VI and unpleasant contacts with his business and the
world's business, entered. Rangar was a capable man whose place as
secretary to the head of the business did not measure his importance in
the organization. Another man of his abilities and opportunity and
position would have carried the title of general manager or vice
president--something respect-carrying. As for