will be bound to be eliminated by the intelligent and the efficient.
That's all. It will demonstrate intensive farming with a vengeance.
And there is more than the certain salary guaranty. After the salary
is paid, the adventure must yield six per cent, to me. If more than
this is achieved, then the entire hundred per cent, of the additional
achievement goes to the farmer."

"Which means that each farmer with go in him will work nights to make
good--I see," said the _Gazette_ man. "And why not? Hundred-
dollar jobs aren't picked up for the asking. The average farmer in the
United States doesn't net fifty a month on his own land, especially
when his wages of superintendence and of direct personal labor are
subtracted. Of course able men will work their heads off to hold to
such a proposition, and they'll see to it that every member of the
family does the same."

"'Tis the one objection I have to this place," Terrence McFane, who
had just joined the group, announced. "Ever one hears but the one
thing--work. 'Tis repulsive, the thought of the work, each on his
twenty acres, toilin' and moilin', daylight till dark, and after dark--
an' for what? A bit of meat, a bit of bread, and, maybe, a bit of jam
on the bread. An' to what end? Is meat an' bread an' jam the end of it
all, the meaning of life, the goal of existence? Surely the man will
die, like a work horse dies, after a life of toil. And what end has
been accomplished? Bread an' meat an' jam? Is that it? A full belly
and shelter from the cold till one's body drops apart in the dark
moldiness of the grave?"

"But, Terrence, you, too, will die," Dick Forrest retorted.