Garry started and stared at him for a minute without speaking. Then he sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
“That may be, sir. Perhaps you do know more about the intrinsic value of my ranch than I do myself. But I know it would cost a mint of money to develop that old rundown place into wheat soil.”
“Humph! and if you had this—er—mint of money, what would you do?”
“Do? I’d develop it myself!” cried the young man, startled into enthusiastic speech. “I know there is a fortune there. You are making big profits on the Hardin place already, I understand. Cattle have gone out; but wheat has come to stay. Oh, I know all about that! But what’s the use?”
“Have you tried to raise money for the development of your land?” asked the major quietly.
“I’ve talked to some bankers, yes. Nothing doing. The machinery and fertilizer cost at the first would be prohibitive. A couple of crop failures would wipe out everything, and the banks don’t want land on their hands. As for the money-lenders—well, Major Dale, you can imagine what sort of hold they demand when they deal with a person in my situation.”
“And you would rather have what seems to you a fair price for your land and get it off your hands?”
“I’ll accept a fair price—yes. But I can’t accept any favors,” said the young man, his face gloomy enough but as stubborn as ever.
“I see,” said the major. “Then what will you do with the money you get?”
“Try to get into some business that will make me more,” and Garry looked up again with a sudden smile.