"A foolish plan!" he remarked. "Excuse me for saying so. Of course you, being a woman, are not competent to carry it on—"
"I have my son Robert to help me," said the widow.
Aaron Wolverton sniffed contemptuously.
"A mere boy!" he ejaculated.
"No; not a mere boy. His father's death and his affection for me have made a man of him at sixteen. He rises early every morning, goes to the fields, and superintends the farming operations. Peter, my head man, says that he is a remarkably smart boy, and understands the business about as well as a man."
"Still I predict that he'll bring you deeper in debt every year."
"I don't think so; but, at any rate, I have promised to try the experiment for one year. I can then tell better whether it will be wise to keep on or sell."
"Now, Mrs. Burton, I have a better plan to suggest."
"What is it, Mr. Wolverton?"
"In fact, I have two plans. One is that you should sell me the ranch. You know I hold a mortgage on it for three thousand dollars?"