“That may be, sir. Perhaps you _do_ know more about the intrinsic value of my ranch than I do myself. But I know it would cost a mint of money to develop that old rundown place into wheat soil.” “Humph! and if you had this—er—_mint_ of money, what would you do?” “Do? I’d develop it myself!” cried the young man, startled into enthusiastic speech. “I know there is a fortune there. _You_ are making big profits on the Hardin place already, I understand. Cattle have gone out; but wheat has come to stay. Oh, I know all about that! But what’s the use?” “Have you tried to raise money for the development of your land?” asked the major quietly. “I’ve talked to some bankers, yes. Nothing doing. The machinery and fertilizer cost at the first would be prohibitive. A couple of crop failures would wipe out everything, and the banks don’t want land on their hands. As for the money-lenders—well, Major Dale, you can imagine what sort of hold _they_ demand when they deal with a person in my situation.” “And you would rather have what seems to you a fair price for your land and get it off your hands?” “I’ll accept a fair price—yes. But I can’t accept any favors,” said the young man, his face gloomy enough but as stubborn as ever. “I see,” said the major. “Then what will you do with the money you get?” “Try to get into some business that will make me more,” and Garry looked up again with a sudden smile. “Raising wheat does not attract you, then?” “It’s the biggest prospect in that section. I know it has cattle raising and even mining backed clear across the board. But it’s no game for a little man with little capital.” “Then why not get into it?” asked Major Dale, still speaking quietly. “You seem enthusiastic. Enthusiasm and youth—why, my boy, they will carry a fellow far!” Garry looked at him in a rather puzzled way. “But don’t I tell you, Major Dale, that the banks will not let me have money?” “I’ll let you have the money—and at a fair interest,” said Major Dale. Garry smiled slowly and put out his hand. The major quickly took it and his countenance began to brighten. But what Garry said caused the old gentleman’s expression to become suddenly doleful: “I can’t accept your offer, sir. I know that it is a favor—a favor that is suggested by Miss Dorothy. If it were not for her, you would never have thought of sending for me or making either of these more than kind propositions you have made. “I shall have to say no—and thank you.” CHAPTER XXVI SERIOUS THOUGHTS The young people at The Cedars had taken Garry Knapp right into the heart of their social life. He knew he was welcome and the hospitality shown him was a most delightful experience for the young Westerner. But “business was business.” He could not see wherein he had any right to accept a favor from Major Dale because Dorothy wished her father to aid him. That was not Garry’s idea of a manly part—to use the father of the girl you love as a staff in getting on in the world.