"By the way, I met a friend of yours, Bob—John White, of the First National Bank. He was telling me all about the things you've been doing on the old place. He says you even have a name for it."
"Why, yes; didn't you see it on the exhibits? We're going to sell everything under a trade name, just like thread and other things that have names."
"How much do you weigh now, Bob?"
"I weight 137 pounds; that is 27 pounds more than when I went to the farm, and I'm two inches taller."
"I should say you have been growing, Bob. Has your Uncle Joe paid you yet for your year's work?
"No, he hasn't; but he will when he gets 'round to it. You see, he hasn't sold his crops yet."
"How much do you think he will give you, Bob?"
"I don't know, but I think he'll be fair. Aunt Bettie will see to that, if he should forget it himself. If you come along with me, I'll show you how many prize winners we have," and he proudly took his father from one exhibit to another, all the time telling him of the permanent improvements they were making on the farm.
"You must come out to the farm to-night and see the place. You have no idea what it looks like with the old barn gone and nearly all the concrete buildings up. You can see the big silo ever so far away. Of course, the biggest change is the taking away of the pond. Just look at that corn standing there—that's what we got out of the old pond where you taught me to swim. We got over 10 tons per acre of ensilage, after leaving several hundred bushels from the field from which to select our seed. You can see for yourself what fine-looking corn it is. Just look at those big ears there, and all that fifteen acres raised before was muskrats and turtles."
"You're right, Bob, it was a 'Hidden Treasure'."