Page:Harold Titus--Timber.djvu/167

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TIMBER
159

After a moment Rowe laughed: "Growing trees to look at, eh?"

"Well, for a time. He isn't sure that it will pay—it isn't profit he is after, anyhow."

Rowe was silent.

"A big idea isn't it?" she asked.

"Not for profit, eh?"

"Really Phil, I don't know detail. It's all very big and splendid. It dates away ahead for future generations. I tell him I don't think his father will take to the idea very readily. Do you? John, though, is all enthusiasm for it—"

Another period of silence; then from Rowe: "Are you sure of this?"

"Sure? Of course! He talked it all the afternoon."

His hand sought her arm and rested there none too lightly.

"And what do you think?" he asked. "What do you think Luke Taylor would say to putting his money into something for—coming generations—paying for what he's broke?"

"It doesn't sound much like him, does it?"

Rowe laughed harshly.

"I guess not! I guess not! He's had me jumping for months switching his investments so they're as good as cash! A bird in hand is worth a half dozen in the bush to him—"

He stopped and swung her about so that her face was toward the moon.

"Don't you know what this means? Don't you know what Luke will say?"

"Why—what, Phil?" breathlessly.