“Thank _you_,” says the captain, just like he was talking to another business man. We hustled back, you can bet. “Git over to the bank quick and sign a note ’fore he changes his mind,” says Catty, calm as a puddle of rain-water. “The money’s there waitin’ fur you.” “You’re joking,” says Jack. “You’ll find the money hain’t no joke,” says Catty. “You and Dad—git!” Mr. Atkins shook his head sadlike. “’Tain’t no use,” says he. “I’m fated to be a business man. There hain’t no hope, nohow.” “Not a mite,” says Catty. “And, Jack, think up all the manners you kin to teach us. Captain Winton says they’re an asset, whatever an asset is. Anyhow, it’s somethin’ that helps you borrow money.” “Catty,” says Jack, “I’ll cram the pair of you so full of manners that you’ll look like a busy day in a crowded dancing-school.” “Guess we kin manage to use all you got to spare,” says Catty, as sober as a judge. CHAPTER XII Just on the edge of town was a big stock-farm where a company raised Holstein cattle. There were half a dozen big barns—bigger than any barns in our county, all painted white. Everything inside the barns was white, too. The way those folks kept their cattle you would have thought they were made out of diamonds instead of beef just like any other cow. There was a bull there that we heard had cost more than fifty thousand dollars. Catty and I were talking about that bull and we figured that a steak off of him would cost about a hundred dollars a bite. Eating that bull would be sort of like as if cannibals was to capture Mr. Rockefeller and eat him. All at once Catty says, “They must be paintin’ on them barns all the time to keep ’em so white.” “Dunno,” says I. “Bet they do,” says he. “I’m goin’ out to find out about it. Comin’?” We set out to walk. It took us ’most an hour to get there, and when we did get there those barns looked even bigger than I had remembered them. We went right through the gate and up to a little house marked “Office.” There were two men in there, one in overalls and another slim man, not exactly dressed up, but not looking as if he spent much time washing out stalls. Catty rapped on the door, and the man in overalls looked up and said to come in. “I’m looking for the boss,” says Catty. “I’m him,” says the man in overalls. “What is it?” “You got fine, white, clean-lookin’ barns,” says Catty. The man that didn’t have overalls sort of grinned, and the boss he kind of grinned, too. “Much ’bleeged,” says he. “Is that what you come to say?” “No,” says Catty. “What I come to say was that that biggest barn with Number Three painted on it don’t look as good as the rest. Seems like it needed paintin’.” Both men laughed. “Now I call that neighborly,” says the boss. “Wasn’t figgerin’ on offerin’ to paint it for us, was you?” “I was,” says Catty, and both the men laughed again. “Fetch your brush?” says the boss.