"Even when this land was all virgin prairie, I do not believe they got greater yields of wheat," Mr. Bronson declared.
"And yet," Hiram said thoughtfully, "a forty-five bushel average is an ordinary harvest in Kansas and Nebraska. And further north the yield is even greater. This, Mr. Bronson, is not wheat land."
"Well, it is good enough for me," declared his employer, warmly. "Those fellows out there in the Northwest are under greater expense than I am for tractors, machinery, and wages. I am pretty well satisfied. If you do as well for me with the corn—"
"Oh, when it comes to corn, this is just the land for it!" cried Hiram.
"And with tractors instead of horses—"
Hiram shook his head.
"I've been figuring that out, Mr. Bronson," the young farmer said. "Nothing less than three hundred acres of corn—and as much of it in one piece as possible—would pay under tractor cultivation. Sunnyside could never be a tractor farm. The fields are too much cut up."
CHAPTER XXIX
EXPLOITING THE WHEAT
The wheat threshing was past. The plows were going again, and following the raking and smoothing of the fields Hiram Strong put in either ensilage corn and peas, or a mixture of grass seeds for new mowing.