After supper, when the chores had been done, Bob went over to look at the ditch. He was astonished to find how much work had been accomplished. A clean-cut trench with uniform banks on either side and the new bank leveled on top 125 feet long had been dug. He didn't know how much a caterpillar steam shovel was worth, but at the rate the contractor figured for the ditch, he would have $610.00 left over, after paying the operator and engineer each $5.00 per day, for six days' work, which Bob thought ought to be enough to cover their wages, and adding $5.00 per day for fuel, making $90.00 in all. Machinery was certainly the thing to handle work quickly and cheaply, for after deducting the cost of bringing the shovel to the job and taking it away again, the contractor would make a handsome profit, and he was more impressed than ever with the conversation he had overheard between Mr. White and Mr. Dow regarding power on the farm. Bob was at supper with his grandparents when his Uncle Joe returned from the sale the next evening, but instead of taking a half day, as he had thought, he had used up an entire day. "I thought you were going to get back at noon, Uncle Joe," said Bob. "Did they have any bees to sell?" "How many colonies did you ask me to buy, Bob?" asked his uncle laughing. "Five or six," said Bob. "Well, I got them for you all right, but there's not five or six. They had twenty-two and they wouldn't sell one without selling all. So I bought them all for $50.00, which you see is less than you said you were willing to pay for six and they're going to deliver them, too, in modern sectional hives. They are three-banded Italian, whatever that means, with one or two exceptions they say the colonies are in a good healthy condition." "That's fine," said Bob, so excited he was scarcely able to eat his supper. "What else did you buy?" "Well, Bob, if I go to the poorhouse, there'll be no one to blame for it but you and John White." "Why, how's that?" asked Bob's grandfather, looking up quickly. "Well, it was like this: when he got me down there he not only persuaded me to buy the ten young Holstein cows and a bull, but he induced me to buy five Berkshire brood sows and two four-year-old Belgian mares. He wanted me to take a flock of Southdown Ewes and a ram, but I didn't buy them--there's no money in keeping a few sheep." "Were they nice-looking sheep, Joe?" asked his father, who was very fond of sheep. "The finest I ever saw, father, but I didn't want to go so far in debt." "Then who bid them in, Joe?" asked his father. "Bob." "Me!" asked Bob, looking up suddenly. "Yes, John White bought them for you and said he would be willing to advance the money to pay for them, and you could pay him back later. He said they were too good a bargain to lose." "But I've no farm for them to run on," said Bob, "and it wouldn't be fair for me to pasture them on your land, Uncle Joe." "I was thinking of that," said his uncle.