The Mar boys, however, had shown business capacity from their childhood, when instead of buying “peanut brittle” and going to the circus, they saved up their money to invest in hens. They made what their mother called “a pretty penny” by selling fresh eggs to the neighbors. The thriving young tradesmen made even their mother pay for whatever she required, and she “planked down the cash” without a murmur. It was a small price for the holy satisfaction of seeing that her children were early learning the value of money. Mar got less pleasure out of his sons’ budding business instincts. He was even obviously annoyed when he discovered that Trenn helped Eddie Cox with his lessons, not out of good comradeship, but at the rate of “two bits” for each half-hour’s aid. “It’s ugly,” said Mar, with unusual spirit. His wife felt obliged to point out that she herself had been engaged in very much the same occupation, when he first met her. The “ugliness” of being paid for helping people with their studies had not oppressed him then. “You were their teacher,” said her husband. “And Trenn is Eddie’s teacher while he’s teaching him!” Then as Mar opened his lips, she quickly closed the argument by adding, “Besides, _Eddie’s_ father has made money and Trenn’s father hasn’t. Eddie Cox will have to buy brains all his life—he may just as well begin now.” Trenn Mar was not yet nineteen when he was so fortunate as to have two business openings. One was to go down to a ranch in southern California and round up cattle for Karl Siegel, and learn all he could for Trenn Mar. The other, to enter the employment of Messrs. Wilks & Simpson, of the Crœsus Creek Mining Company. Trenn’s father meant him to take the latter—in fact he had put himself to an uncommon amount of trouble to get his son this opening. But Trenn was all for the cattle business. “Besides, look at what Siegel offers. It’s wonderful! Those men usually expect a young fellow to buy his experience. But Siegel—” “Yes,” agreed Mar; “it looks better to start with, but that’s not the main thing. You must look ahead.” Trenn opened his brown eyes. He even grinned. “Why yes, I mean to.” “With Wilks & Simpson you’ll get the hang of the best managed placer-mining property in California.” “But that whole blessed country is prospected already. There’s no money in it for me.” “That’s precisely what there is in it.” Trenn looked about the room, impatient to be gone. What did his father know about money? Less than many a sharp boy of twelve. “Sound mining knowledge,” he was saying, “will be very useful. Not only for itself, but because it will bring you into business contact with mining men.” “What good’ll that do me?” demanded the boy, impatiently. “_We_ haven’t got any capital.” “No, _they’ll_ have the capital. You’ll have something more rare.” “What?”