He rallied from his first depression with a tight-lipped determination.  He was not trying out a business venture so much as he was trying out himself.  Previously he had always figured success and failure as his performance reacted on his audience.  He was learning that one could impress a stupendous crowd and really fail, or strut upon the boards of an empty playhouse and still succeed.  He began to realize just what was meant by the term self-esteem—­how hard and uncompromising and exacting it was.  To disappoint another was a humiliation; to disappoint oneself was a tragedy.  And the tragedy became deep in proportion to the ability to be self-searching.  There were moments when he closed his eyes to self-analysis...when it seemed better to press on without disturbing glimpses either backward or forward.  He was eager to gain an economic foothold first—­there would be time later for recapitulations and readjustments to his widening vision.

The two months following were rough and uneven.  He had to borrow continually from Brauer, meet Hilmer with a bland smile, suffer the covert sarcasms of his wife.  Some money came in, but it barely kept things moving.  His broker friend had been right—­the payment of any premiums but fire premiums dragged on “till the cows came home.”  Many of the policies that had seemed so easy to write up came back for total cancellation.  This man had buried a father, another had married a wife, a third had bought a piece of ground—­the excuses were all valid, and they came from friends, so there was nothing to do but smile and assure them that it didn’t matter.

But somehow Starratt weathered the storm and the day came when the Hilmer insurance fell due.  Fred found Hilmer absent from his desk, but the cashier received him blandly.  Yes, they were ready to pay, in fact the check was drawn and only awaited Hilmer’s signature.  To-morrow, at the latest, it would be forthcoming.  Fred drew a long sigh of relief.  He went back to his office whistling.

In the hallway he met Brauer.

“I want to have a talk with you,” Brauer began, almost apologetically.

Fred waved him in and Brauer came direct to the point.  He was dissatisfied with the present arrangement and he was ready to pull out if Fred were in a position to square things.  His demands were extraordinarily fair—­he asked to have the notes for any advances met, plus 50 per cent of the profit on any business he had turned in.  He claimed no share of the profits on Fred’s business.

“I suppose you’ve collected the Hilmer premiums,” he threw out, significantly.

Fred nodded and began a rapid calculation.  It turned out that he had borrowed about $500 from his partner and that 50 per cent of the commissions on the Brauer business came to a scant $125.  Well, his profits on the Hilmer insurance would be in the neighborhood of $1,900 under the new rate.  To-morrow he would be in possession of this sum.  It was too easy!  He drew out his check book, deciding to close the deal before Brauer had a chance to change his mind.  Brauer received the check with a bland smile and surrendered the notes and the partnership agreement.