"You always told me not to worry about interest payments."
"It doesn't look as if you did worry about them. I carried you along because you were a mere boy, and under the circumstances I couldn't press for money. But you have increased your debt instead of decreasing it. I have been easy, that's what I've been—too easy. I can look back at my dealings with you," Mr. Braden continued with virtuous satisfaction, "and I can truly say that I have dealt tenderly with the—er—fatherless. But of course there's a limit."
"Well, if you feel that way about it, the only way I can pay up is to get a loan elsewhere."
"There's another way," Mr. Braden told him. "I make the suggestion to help you out, principally. If you will sell the place I will take it over at a fair price, and pay you the difference in cash."
"I don't want to sell."
"Think it over. The ranch is saddled with a heavy debt. You are saddled with more than a young man should be called on to carry. You are the one who will have to pay, if you keep the ranch, by your own hard work. You will be handicapped for years, deprived of many things you would otherwise have. On the other hand," Mr. Braden continued, warming to his subject, "if you sold this place all debt would be wiped out, you would have a nice lump sum in cash, and you would be as free as—er—birds. You could take a year's holiday, travel, or," he added, seeing no signs of enthusiasm in Angus' face, "you could go into one of the new districts just opening up, buy virgin land, full of—of—er—"
"Full of alkali?" Angus suggested gravely.
"Alkali! Not at all," said Mr. Braden frowning. "'Potentialities' was the word I had in mind. Yes, full of potentialities. In a new district you would become prosperous, free from the ball and chain of debt. That is the sensible course. Now what do you think of it?"
"Not much," said Angus.
"Huh! Why not?" Mr. Braden inquired, plainly disappointed at this reception of his disinterested advice.