“I’ll stake my last dollar that you make your own pay if you start in to do it, but as for the others--have you thought out any plan?” “In a rough way,” I said. “In the first place I’m convinced that talk doesn’t do any good. These people have been preached at through the papers, magazines and pulpit until their brains are calloused. They aren’t interested in the problem in the abstract. They aren’t interested in anything much--not even themselves. They’re convinced that farming doesn’t pay and they have before them the visible proof that it doesn’t so far as they are concerned anyhow. On the other hand, there’s Dardoni, but they dispose of him by calling him a Dago.” “Then what’s left?” demanded Dick. “To get them interested in themselves first of all. The only way I know of to do that is to make it worth their while in good hard cash.” “Bribe ’em?” “It amounts to that. I want to get them together in some sort of an organization.” “There’s the Grange,” said Dick. “It has played its part and in some places is still playing it. But around here people are sick of it. It has become nothing but a social club.” “Well?” “You know what they are doing in the West and South; they are offering cash prizes to boys for the best crop of corn raised on a given area. They’ve roused the whole country to the competition and have advertised it so well that the winner becomes for the moment a national figure. That’s what we ought to do here, only my plan is to give the competition a wider scope. We ought to have prizes for the older men and for the women. We ought to stimulate better care of our apple orchards, better hay fields, better potatoes, better household economy, better kitchen gardens.” “Hold on,” interrupted Dick, “who’s going to pay for these prizes?” “In the end the club will raise the money. To start with it ought to be raised by public subscription.” “If I know this crowd, you’ve got a job.” “Ten prizes of a hundred dollars each will amount to only a thousand dollars. The business men of the town ought to give half that the first year; I’ll give the rest.” “Hear! Hear!” shouted Dick. “As an investment,” I said. “If we can bring this old town to life it will pay every mother’s son in it. If we can make it the livest, the most beautiful village in the state, as it ought to be made, we’ll attract a desirable class of residents and double real estate values. The prosperity of every citizen is the prosperity of the community. In the meanwhile we’ll decrease the cost of living here and give men cash to pay their bills. Good Lord, there’s no limit as to what can be done if we can rouse these people. I tell you it’s a great big business proposition if nothing more.” “By George, I don’t know but what you’re right, Dad,” exclaimed Dick. “It will be a game worth playing, anyhow.” CHAPTER VII THE PIONEERS