“Good for you! How much did you realize?”
“One hundred and four dollars.”
“No!” exclaimed Joe, in surprise.
“That’s right,” nodded Dick, while his face lighted up with satisfaction. “That wasn’t a bad speculation, was it, Captain Beasley?”
“I should say it was a very good one,” replied the skipper of the Minnehaha.
“And I’ve got another one in my eye now that ought to pan out even better.”
“What is it?” asked Joe, eagerly.
“There’s a fine grove of walnuts and hickory nuts on that deserted farm, and they’ll be ready for picking just as soon as the frost sets in good and hard. They’ll fetch over two dollars a bushel in this town at wholesale. If there’s one bushel, I’ll bet there’s a hundred and fifty to be got.”
“Great Scott!” almost shouted Fletcher in his excitement. “Let me in on this, will you, Dick? I’ll help you pick them at twenty-five cents a bushel, just for the fun of the thing.”
“I was about to propose something of that kind, as I wouldn’t care to go out there all alone. You don’t know what a spooky place it is. I’ll take you in as a partner, Joe, and give you one-third of the profits. I’d make it even up, only the team costs something, and it’s only fair I should have a percentage for its use.”