"It's surely the roughest road I've ever traveled on, John," laughed his friend, "and I've no doubt what you say is right. If farmers would only take to using lead pencils and figure a little they would soon discover where their losses are." "You know the old way of repairing roads, Al. They dig the dirt out of the gutters in the springtime and fill up the rut holes, and then the next spring do the same thing over again, from 'generation to generation,' as the good Book says. I'm satisfied myself," he continued, "that our county will never go ahead until we begin putting down good roads. I was telling our Commissioners only yesterday that the First National Bank would guarantee the bond issue for any road- building work they would undertake in any part of the county." The two men sat in silence for a time, looking out at the rain. Then they got up and started to walk to the other end of the mill. "Why, hello, boy! Fishing?" remarked Al, as he noticed Bob for the first time. "Yes," replied Bob. "Catching anything, are you?" asked the banker. "Well, you never can tell what you can catch on a rainy day," the boy replied slowly. "Uncle Joe greased the grindstone to-day for the first time in its history." "You don't say!" laughed the banker; "who put him up to that, I'd like to know?" Bob only grinned and remained silent. "Well, it looks as though the rain were going to pass over," said the banker a few minutes later, as he looked out at his stranded automobile. "What's your name, young man?" inquired the insurance man. "Bob Williams," he replied. "Oh, then you are Billy Williams' son, who's working here this summer," said the banker. "Well, how does it happen that you're fishing instead of working to-day, I'd like to know? Couldn't your Uncle Joe find anything for you to do?" "Yes, he did; but we greased the grindstone and got through at noon," Bob replied smiling. "Well, he was square in letting you have the afternoon off after you showed him how to save it," the banker replied. "Some time, Bob, when you're in town, drop in and see me at the bank, and, by the way, if you ever catch any turtles, bring them to me. I'll be glad to pay you fifty cents each for all you can catch. I'm rather fond of a good snapper." "What are you going to do now?" inquired the insurance man, seeing Bob winding up his fishing line. "Guess I'll go up to the barn and look for some lumber to build a long ladder," the boy replied grinning. "Well, so long, Bob," said the insurance man with a smile. "Good luck to you! I see you've good ears." IV DRAINING THE POND It was quite evident to Bob the next morning that his uncle was worrying about something; he was not only absent-minded, but he was short and crusty and found fault with everything that Bob did.