"I do most always," he answered. "I learned to do that selling chickens and keeping account of the milk Gurney gives."
"Don't you keep a record of the milk all your cows give?" asked Mr.
Dow.
"Oh, Gurney is our cow at home—not one of Uncle Joe's cows. Gurney's a purebred with a pedigree," he declared proudly.
"When are you going to start keeping a record of the cows on the farm,
Bob?" asked the banker.
"I don't know," replied Bob. "Uncle Joe don't believe in it yet. He thinks it's a waste of time, and he always laughs when I tell him that it is the only way to find out if a cow's worth her keep, but," he added smiling, "he drained the pond and he didn't believe in that two days ago."
"I suppose you want the money for the turtles, Bob," said the banker, getting back to the main subject.
"Well, yes," he said, "but who's buying them, Mr. White—you or Mr.
Dow?"
"Ha, ha," laughed the banker. "This is where you get stuck, Al."
"Why, how's that?" asked his friend.
"Well," said the banker, "I asked the manager of the Fort Henry how much he'd pay a pound for nice fat turtles. You see, Bob, I reduce everything to figures, too. Look at this and you'll see why it pays."