"What's that?" asked his uncle again, not sure he heard correctly.
"Drain the pond and plant it in corn," repeated Bob. "You won't have to wait till you sell the corn, either, to get the money."
"How's that?" asked his uncle, interested in spite of himself.
"Well, all I can tell you is to do it and the First National Bank will make the loan."
"Whoever heard of such a thing as planting corn in an old mill pond," scoffed his uncle.
"I did," replied Bob smiling.
"Who told you?" demanded his uncle, looking him over from head to foot, for Bob with his ideas was getting to be more and more of a puzzle to him every day as he upset the long-established farm traditions.
"The president of the bank himself," declared Bob. "At least I overheard him tell another man that he would."
"You overheard John White, president of the First National Bank, discussing with someone else that I wanted to borrow a thousand dollars? I don't believe it. John White wouldn't discuss my affairs with anyone, especially when boys are standing around listening," vehemently declared his uncle.
"I wasn't standing around listening," said Bob blushing. "I was fishing in the pond yesterday and I sat in the mill to get out of the rain. I was fishing in the forebay, and they came in the mill to wait until the rain was over and sat down and talked."