"True. But we like to make these risks as small as possible. Where did you get all this stuff, anyway?"
Kenneth mentioned his source. Boyd shouted with laughter.
"That shiftless cuss!" he cried. "Brainerd! Why, Ken, he hasn't got enough to bless himself with! He's been gophering away on that side hill of his for ten years or more, and he hasn't got two cents to bless himself with! Why, Ken, he's the worst man in the world to talk farming. He never raised anything but a pretty daughter. Oho!" concluded Boyd, struck by a sudden thought.
Kenneth flushed, but stood by his guns.
"He hasn't made a paying business, but he made just the experiment we were talking about; and it has worked, as an experiment."
This was exactly the right tack.
"How do you mean?" asked Boyd.
Kenneth explained Brainerd's physical weakness and the handicap that came from his lack of energy. He went over in accurate detail what had been done on the little ranch, why it could not have been carried farther, and what the results were up to that time. Boyd was partly won to his son's point of view by his arguments; but was more struck by the thoroughness and intelligence with which the young man had evidently gone into the question. Those are good qualities, and Boyd felt a glow of pride at this excellent proof of them. His active mind had been working independently of his listening.
"I see," he said, when Kenneth had finished. "You may be right; and then again you may not. But you have gone into it all in a way I like. As I see the situation, however, a really conclusive experiment would take a good many years. By the time it was proved wrong, you would have put the best years of your life into it."
"I'm willing," interrupted Kenneth, eagerly.
"I don't think it necessary. According to your statement there is such an experiment pretty well along, that only needs finishing. Suppose we should make an arrangement with Mr. Brainerd to let you in partnership with him. You could supply the energy and I the capital; and we would know in short order
