“Yep. An’ if it ain’t a success?” asked the miller shrewdly.
“Then their money is lost.”
“Ahem! That’s a hard sayin’,” muttered the old man. “But if it does make a hit—like that Forty-Niner story of yourn, Niece Ruth—then the feller that buys in makes a nice little pile?”
“Our successes,” Ruth said with pride, “have run from fifty to two hundred per cent profit.”
“My soul! Two hunderd! Ain’t that perfec’ly scand’lous?” muttered Uncle Jabez. “An’ here jest last week I let Amos Blodgett have a thousand dollars on his farm at five an’ a ha’f per cent.”
“But that investment is perfectly safe,” Ruth said slyly.
“My soul! Yes. Blodgett’s lower forty’s wuth more’n the mortgage. But sech winnin’s as you speak of——! Niece Ruth how much is needed to make this picture the kind of a picture you want it to be?”
She told him—as she and Mr. Hammond had already agreed. The idea was to divide the cost in three parts and let Uncle Jabez invest to the amount of one of the shares if he would.
“But, you see, Uncle Jabez, Mr. Hammond does not feel as confident as I do about ‘The Boys of the Draft,’ nor has he the same deep interest in the picture. I want it to be a success—and I believe it will be—because of the good it will do the Red Cross campaign for funds.”
“Humph!” grunted the miller. “I’m bankin’ on your winnin’ anyway.” And perhaps his belief in the efficacy of Aunt Alvirah Boggs’ prayers had something to do with his “buying into” the new picture.