By degrees the sea of grain grew nearer, its edge rising in a clean-cut ridge above the flat white sweep of dazzling plain. It had changed from green to pale yellow in the past few weeks, but there were here and there vivid coppery gleams in it. It promised a bounteous yield when thrashing was over, and he thought of his own splendid crop with the clean pride of accomplishment. Then he noticed that a buggy was approaching from the opposite direction, and when he reached the homestead a man in white shirt and store clothes had just pulled up his horse. He shook hands with Thorne, who had already recognized him as a dealer in implements and general farming supplies from the railroad settlement.
"Glad I met you. It will save my going on to your place," he said.
Thorne noticed that the man, who was usually optimistic and cheerful, looked depressed.
"Did you want to see me about something, Grantly?" he asked.
"Yes. To cut it short, I'm going out of business."
The full significance of this announcement did not immediately dawn upon Thorne.
"I expect most of the boys will regret it as much as I do," he said. "One could rely on anything sent out from your store, and there's no doubt that you have always treated us liberally."
"That's just the trouble. I've been too blamed easy with some of you. If I'd kept a tighter hand on the folks who owed me money it's quite likely I'd have been able to meet my bills."
"Is it as bad as that?" Thorne inquired with genuine sympathy.
Grantly turned to Farquhar, who had joined them in the meanwhile.