“Why—yes, I did. But that was nothing. I’d been broke before. I got a job here and there to carry me along. But when I reached home Uncle Terry had hiked out for Alaska and left a letter with a lawyer for me. I was the one bad egg in the family,” and Garry laughed rather ruefully, “so he said. He’d rather give his money to build a rattlesnake home than to me. So that’s where we stand to-day. And you see, White, I did not exactly prepare myself for any profession or any business, depending as I was on Uncle Terry’s bounty.”
“Tough luck,” announced Ned White.
“It was very foolish on my part. No man should look forward to another’s shoes. If I had gone ahead with the understanding that I had my own row to hoe when I got through school, believe me, I should have picked my line long before I left the university and prepared accordingly.
“I figure that I’m set back several years. With this little bunch of money your uncle is going to pay me for my old ranch I have got to get into something that will begin to turn me a penny at once. Not so easy to do, Mr. White.”
“But what about the folks you steered into the copper mine?” asked Ned.
“Oh, they are making out fairly well. It was no great fortune, but a good paying proposition and may keep going for years. Copper is away up now, you know. They paid me back the loan long ago. But poor old Uncle Terry—well, he is still sore, and I guess he will remain so for the remainder of his natural. I’m sorry for him.”
“And not for yourself?” asked Ned, slyly.
“Why, I’d be glad if he’d back me in something. Developing my ranch into wheat land, for instance. Money lies that way, I believe. But it takes two or three years to get going and lots of money for machinery. Can’t raise wheat out there in a small way. It means tractors, and gangplows and all such things. Whew! no use thinking of that now,” and Garry heaved a final sigh.
He had not asked Ned to keep the tale to himself; therefore, the family knew the particulars of Garry Knapp’s trouble with his uncle in a short time. It was the one thing needed to make Major Dale, at least, desire to keep in touch with the young Westerner.
“I’m not surprised that he looks upon any understanding with Dorothy in the way he does,” the major said to Aunt Winnie. “He is a high-minded fellow—no doubt of it. And I believe he is no namby-pamby. He will go far before he gets through. I’ll prophesy that.”