After all, Steve was young. Only a year or two before he
was nothing but a young upstart and the very boys in the street laughed at
him. Tom grew a little indignant, but was careful to take thought before
he spoke. "Perhaps, although he's young and don't look like much, he's a
faster and shrewder thinker than any of us," he told himself.
"You do talk like a fellow who has something up his sleeve," he said
laughing. "If you want to know, I sold my stock the same as the others. I
wasn't going to take a chance of being a loser if I could help it. It may
be the small-town way, but you know things maybe I don't know. You can't
blame me for living up to my lights. I always did believe in the survival
of the fittest and I got a daughter to support and put through college. I
want to make a lady of her. You ain't got any kids yet and you're younger.
Maybe you want to take chances I don't want to take. How do I know what
you're up to?"
Again the two rode in silence. Steve had prepared himself for the talk. He
knew there was a chance that, in its turn, the corn-cutting machine Hugh
had invented might not prove practical and that in the end he might be
left with a factory on his hands and with nothing to manufacture in it. He
did not, however, hesitate. Again, as on the day in the bank when he was
confronted by the two older men, he made a bluff. "Well, you can come in or
stay out, just as you wish," he said a little sharply.
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