part of what is here and that part will about equal the growth on the rest of the tract; it will take care of all the investment, cover all these years of compounding interest, and show that the forest is a sound, going, moneymaking venture, that it can go on forever, that there will always be something to cut, that there will always be white pine here, that there never will be useless red-oak brush and gnarled poplar, blackened snags, lifeless soil, and Thad Parkers and Jim Harrises!
"That is what my father started to prove and they called him Foolish Foraker—and I loved my father, I believe in him—and I want men to believe in him as I do!"
She stopped, breathing rapidly. Taylor was thrilled, stirred by her enthusiasm, by the glow of a crusader which was in her eyes and for a moment he looked into her face with a feeling of reverence—and then he saw her as a girl again, laughed at, whispered about by foul-mouthed yokels, fighting stupidity and small-minded men!
"A terrible load for you!" he muttered. "Why—Why doesn't the State do this? Isn't it the State's job?" She smiled tolerantly.
"My father used to say that in the history of civilization every just function of the State has followed individual enterprise. The State is thick-headed. It is the individual who lightens burdens, the individual who blazes the way that States may follow—and as for Lansing!" she laughed sadly. "Waste land has meant only a page of tabulated figures to most men there!
"My father used to say that we had an over-supply of office holders and a shortage of leaders. Michigan has done a lot, comparatively; we have state forests that are
