instance, Mr. Rowe? Of course, the Swiss may be wrong; they've only been growing timber on the same land for six or seven centuries," looking down at her hands demurely.
"Pine trees produce pine seed and that seed will grow more pine trees. My books show that we netted over a thousand dollars on seed harvested and sold to the commercial nurseries last year. I hope that this item will almost offset the cost of growing our own seedlings and replanting when we're finally under way."
Rowe's color was rising. He was conscious that Luke was looking at him. He was out of his depth, challenging statements which concerned facts new to him; he was losing his temper. But it was win or lose, now! This was the thing for which he had come to Pancake: to cow this girl. If he lost in this interview, he would lose his standing with Luke and with that, all that he desired would go, as well!
"This gets better and better," he remarked sarcastically. "You are asking Mr. Taylor for help and you don't know how much you need or how long you will need it. And you're asking this because somebody has done something somewhere else. Do you actually know your capital investment, Miss Foraker?"
"Mr. Taylor may check my books. They are complete, from the time my father began."
"In due season, perhaps, should he have—any curiosity." He waved his hand, trying to be casual in his desperation. He could not stop, now. Luke was watching him, the eyes of the girl challenged him. He blundered on.
"Your whole proposition is hinged on higher prices and a purely hypothetical timber shortage. In six months
