"My land!" Granny's eyes sparkled like sunshine on dewdrops. "I'll make some breakfast right away." "What'd you see in Ackerton?" Dan asked eagerly. "What'd you see in Ackerton, Jeff." "Hang on to your horses!" Jeff laughed. "I'll tell you in good time. Granny, I sold your tapestries." "Did you now?" "Couldn't get what they're worth, though," Jeff said sadly. "Land! Had no idea they were worth anything." "I got two hundred dollars." "Jeff!" Granny almost dropped the kitten. "I did, Granny. Four times as much as I told you I'd get." "But--" "And there's a place for more." Granny stroked the kitten and there was a look of near sadness in her eyes. After a moment she said gently, "It seems almost sinful, that much for aught so small." "It's not," Jeff assured her. "The man who bought them from me will make a profit, too." "He can do that and welcome he is. Land! Who would have thought it? Two hundred dollars! Half would do me for a year." "All would do you for two years." Granny shook her head. "No, Jeff. For sixty-four years I've abided here and never had a hundred dollars all at once. Never missed it, either, 'cept when Enos was sick. I might have paid a doctor for him. If you see fit to give me half, I'll take it should I have need of aught that is not at my hand. Half is yours." Jeff hesitated. He worked for profit, but somehow it hadn't seemed right to make any on Granny. Still, as far as she was concerned, a hundred dollars was a vast sum and obviously she had gone as far as she intended to go. Granny laughed. "We'll leave it that way and I'll have more ta--Oh, hang! I keep forgettin' the name. More cloths the next time you go. It seems a mort of pay for what pleasures me so dear. Now I'll rouse up some eatables." She baked delicious pancakes, fried a heaping platter of sausage and put them on the table. Granny and Dan listened intently, prompting him if he omitted the smallest detail, as Jeff told everything about his trip to Ackerton. When he had finished, he looked pointedly at Dan, declaring, "And finally, I arranged for you to go back to school in September." "I'm not going," Dan said firmly. "You must go," Jeff urged. "Dan, you and I can build up a good business here, but unless we always want to carry peddlers' packs, one of us has to know business methods. The place to learn them is in school." "I want to carry a pack." "You'll have your chance; it isn't going to work that fast. Think of ten or maybe even fifteen years from now. Imagine a trading post in Smithville and a store in Ackerton with BLAZER AND TARRANT ENTERPRISES in gold letters a foot high across both of 'em." Jeff grinned. "We could cut out the Ltd. If we were partners, we wouldn't be limited any more." Dan said stubbornly, "I can't go." "Could you if--if you were satisfied about your pop?" Dan hesitated. "You promise, Jeff?" "I promise." "Before I go?" "Before you go." "Then," Dan sighed, "I reckon I can go back."