"You see," Hiram began, "my father was a very good farmer indeed, although he farmed for other men all his life. He read a great deal and studied farming methods, and I worked right along with him until I was fourteen. What he learned--at least, a good deal of it--I learned, too." "Humph!" sniffed Battick, "a boy of that immature age?" "Father made a friend of me. We were like brothers--chums," Hiram Strong continued. "Somehow, he was an easy man to learn from--he was patient." "I see," muttered Battick. "Well, I take it your father died?" "Yes, sir. I had got it into my head that I did not want to be a tenant farmer, as he was all his life, and there was no money left. So I went to town thinking there would be more and better chances for a boy." "Humph! You were starting out young." "I didn't have any folks," explained Hiram. "I got a job that barely paid my board and lodging. And I soon got sick of it." "Of the job or the city?" asked Battick, the ghost of a smile passing over his face as he listened to his involuntary guest and stared into the leaping flames on the hearth. "Of both," replied Hiram promptly. "The city is no place for a fellow who loves the country as I found I did. Mother Atterson, with whom I boarded, had eighty acres left her near the town of Scoville, and she and I made a dicker. I farmed it for her for two years, and when our contract ended at Christmas last, I had fixed things so that she could run it on a paying basis with the help of a friend of mine, Henry Pollock, and by the aid of Sister, whom Mother Atterson has adopted, and Lem Camp, who lives with them. "Mr. Stephen Bronson bought a place near Scoville--" "He's always buying farms," grumbled Battick. "Got more money than brains." "I wouldn't say that," Hiram emphasized in disagreement. "I do not believe that Mr. Bronson ever invests in a farm without getting a good return for his outlay. He did on the old Fleigler place there in Scoville. And he only bought that place to live there for a part of each year while his daughter, Lettie, is going to school at St. Beris." "Yes. I've heard he has a daughter that just about leads him around by the nose," sniffed Battick. Hiram Strong laughed. "She's a girl that most any man would be willing to be led around by, by the nose or otherwise," he said. "Lettie Bronson is a mighty pretty girl. Anyhow, her father liked my work on the Atterson Eighty; so he has made me this offer to come out here to the Middle West and farm Sunnyside for a couple of years." In this brief way Hiram Strong had related the more important occurrences narrated in the first volume of this series, entitled "Hiram the Young Farmer; Or, Making the Soil Pay." His modest statement that "Mr. Bronson had liked my work on the Atterson Eighty" scarcely described the farm owner's enthusiasm, however, or explained why Mr. Bronson had sent for so young a fellow to run his new purchase here at Pringleton near the Ohio River.