"I'm going to do it," George replied. His grandfather glanced again at his face, so scowling, so determined. And a gleam of compassion and yearning came for a moment in Roger's eyes. His heavy hand lay on George's knee. "That's right, son," he grunted. "Make the family proud of you. I'll do all I can to help you start. My business is picking up, thank God, and I'll be able to back you now. I'll stay up here a good part of the summer. We've both of us got a lot to learn--and not only from books--we want to remember we've plenty to learn from the neighbors, too. Take old Dave Royce, for instance, who when all is said and done has worked our farm for twenty odd years and never once run me into debt." "But, Gee!" demurred George. "He's so 'way out of date!" "I know he is, son, but we've got to go slow." And Roger's look passed furtively along the faces in the car. "We don't want to forget," he warned, "that this is still New England. Every new idea we have we want to go easy with, snake it in." "I've got an awful lot of 'em," the boy muttered hungrily. * * * * * At the farm, the next morning at daybreak, Roger was awakened by the sound of George's voice. It was just beneath his window: "But cattle are only part of it, Dave," the boy declared, in earnest tones, "just part of what we can have up here. Think what we've got--over three hundred acres! And we want to make every acre count! We want to get in a whole lot more of hogs--Belted Hampshires, if we can afford 'em--and a couple of hundred hens. White Leghorns ought to fill the bill. Of course that's just a starter. I've got a scheme for some incubators--electric--run by the dynamo which we'll put in down by the dam. And we can do wonders with bees, too, Dave--I've got a book on 'em I'd like you to read. And besides, there's big money in squab these days. Rich women in New York hotels eat thousands of 'em every night. And ducks, of course, and turkeys. I'd like a white gobbler right at the start, if we knew where we could get one cheap." The voice broke off and there was a pause. "We can do an awful lot with this place." Then Dave's deep drawl: "That's so, George--yes, I guess that's so. Only we don't want to fool ourselves. That ain't Noah's Ark over thar--it's a barn. And just for a starter, if I was you--" Here Dave deliberated. "Of course it's none of my business," he said, "it's for you and your grandfather to decide--and I don't propose to interfere in what ain't any of my affair--" "Yes, yes, Dave, sure! That's all right! But go on! _What_, just for a starter?" "Cows," came the tranquil answer. "I've been hunting around since you wrut me last month. And I know of three good milkers--" "Three? Why, Dave, I wrote we want thirty or forty!" "Yes--you wrut," Dave answered. "But I've druv all around these parts--and there ain't but three that I can find. And I ain't so sure of that third one. She looks like she might--" George cut in.