Economizing as much as possible and hiring no labor, the camp had still cost six hundred and fifteen dollars. However, the old building had been a huge place and there was enough lumber left over to build another, smaller camp as soon as they acquired another building site. Ted nibbled the end of his pen. "We'll be in the clear on this one before next hunting season; then everything it brings in will be pure gravy." "How do you figger it?" "There's six weeks of small game hunting and three of deer season. If the camp is rented continuously, it will bring in four hundred and fifty dollars. Then, when fishing opens--" "If," Al broke in, "is a right fancy word. Might be a good idea to rent your camp 'fore you spend the rent money." "It might at that," Ted said meekly, "and I forgot to charge against it the fifteen dollars the ad's costing." "Charge it," Al advised, "and get this one thing straight. There's no such thing as 'pure gravy.' What a body gets, he works for. What he don't work for, he don't get. You started the ball rollin', but it will stop if you don't keep it rollin'." "What do you suggest I do?" "Just what you are doin', but don't get cocky about it. You've made a start, but it's a small start that stacks up against a big job. See how things work out. If they come 'round like I think they will, this camp will make money. But it won't be your money. It belongs to the job you've set yourself. Build another camp--and another and another, until you've got as many as you can handle. Go on from there." "Go on?" "You started out," Al reminded him, "to own a place like Crestwood." "That will take years!" "Did you expect to get it in a week?" "Well--No." "Good, on account you won't. You'll need years. Then, after you finally get what you want, or somethin' close to it, all the people who set 'round on their hunkers while you worked will still be settin' 'round tellin' each other how lucky you are." Ted grinned, then yawned and stretched. "Gosh! All this heavy philosophy's making me tired!" "What do you think your bed's for?" "You get the best ideas!" "Oh, I'm the smart one!" Al smiled and filled his pipe. "Catch yourself some shut-eye. There's work to be done come mornin'." * * * * * The next morning, with Al driving and Tammie on the floor in front of Ted, they started back toward the camp they had built. The lazy sun, reluctant to get out of bed, made a splash of gold only on the very tip of Hawkbill. The rest of the wilderness was a deep-shadowed green, with overtones of gray. A doe danced across the road in front of them and stopped to look back over her shoulder at the passing pickup. They saw two more does, then a buck--and Al stepped suddenly on the gas.