"Is your farm a large one, Mr. Powers?" questioned Bob.
Mr. Powers smiled.
"It is larger than you would want to build a fence around," he
returned humorously.
"I suppose you have all sorts of cows and pigs and horses on it, and
raise every kind of fruit and vegetable that ever was invented," put
in Van mischievously.
Mr. Powers shook his head and looked not a little amused.
"No. We have only enough stock for our own use--nothing fancy. I do
not go in for show farming. I raise only one thing on my land, and
I'm going to see if you are clever enough to guess what it is."
"Alfalfa!" cried Bob instantly.
"No. How did you happen to think of that?"
"Oh, I've read that lots of western farmers raised it."
"True enough. It wasn't a bad guess, but it was not the right one,"
said the stranger. "Now suppose we hear from your chum."
"Corn."
"Still wrong; but you are getting warmer."
"Wheat."
"Wheat is not as good a random shot as corn."
"It must be a vegetable," declared Bob thoughtfully. "Let me see.
Not potatoes?"
"No."
"Of course it couldn't be peas, or beans, or squash, because you
said once you had hundreds of acres, and you would never raise any
of those things in such large quantities," argued Van. "Spinach,
tomatoes--"
"I have it!" cried Bob. "You should have guessed it the first thing,
Van."
"Why?"
"Can't you think? With your father right in the business you ought
to."
"Beets," exclaimed Van.
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