From what he had read of conditions here about Pringleton, the winter had already been severe enough for all farming purposes. The grain was in good shape, the plowed ground had already been well frozen to the detriment of the bugs and worms, and the fruit trees were showing no signs of early sap-rising.
Another month of cold weather, some snow for a wheat-cover, and some strong March winds, would put the land in ideal shape for corn.
And Hiram Strong had been brought here to the Corn Belt of the Middle West for the express purpose of raising corn.
He was enthusiastic over the prospect. He had worked hard and intelligently on the little Eastern farm, and now had come his chance, not only to work out his present theories on a larger scale, but to experiment further and with greater facilities for carrying his plans through to successful completion. Yes, it was with eager anticipation and high hopes that he looked forward to the advancing spring.
Mr. Stephen Bronson had been growing bumper crops on all his farms through the Middle West, and especially those in the vicinity of Pringleton. Without doubt the big farm owner, having seen what Hiram Strong had accomplished on the Atterson Eighty, determined to learn if such methods of cultivation would pay on a larger acreage and under somewhat different conditions of climate and with different tools.
The young fellow quite realized that he was on trial only. He must make good within two years or he would be a failure in the eyes of such a sharp business man as Stephen Bronson.
Hiram, however, had no intention of being a failure; he had come here to Pringleton to win, just as he had gone upon the old Jeptha Atterson farm to win.
Hiram remained in bed on this morning until he heard a stir in the living room and the sizzling of bacon in the skillet. He had not been disturbed by Mr. Battick shooting at rats in the night (for which he was grateful), but he had not dared to venture into the outer room until he was sure his host was moving about.
Hiram brought his bag out of the bedroom already packed. Battick only grunted a "good morning," and was evidently in no more cheerful mood than on the evening before. Had he been invited to do so, the youth from the East would not have wished to prolong his stay with the man.
Battick, however, seemed still opposed to Hiram's getting into the clutches of Miss Delia Pringle. At breakfast he said: