his adventurous spirit,
a worn-out civilization, but he was quick to recognize, and in his
heart was glad to welcome, a change that would mean new life and
assured prosperity to Kalman, whom he had come to love as a son.
To Kalman that surveyor's flag meant the opening up of a new world,
a new life, rich in promise of adventure and achievement. French
noticed his glowing face and eyes.

"Yes, Kalman, boy," he said, "it will be a great thing for you, great
for the country. It means towns and settlements, markets and money,
and all the rest."

"We will have no trouble selling our potatoes and our oats now,"
said the boy.

"Not a bit," said French; "we could sell ten times what we have
to sell."

"And why not get ten times the stuff?" cried the boy.

French shrugged his shoulders. It was hard to throw off the old
laissez faire of the pioneer.

"All right, Kalman, you go on. I will give you a free hand.
Mackenzie and I will back you up; only don't ask too much of us.
There will be hundreds of teams at work here next year."

"One hundred teams!" exclaimed Kalman. "How much oats do you think
they will need? One thousand bushels?"

"One thousand! yes, ten thousand, twenty thousand."

Kalman made a rapid calculation.

"Why, that would mean three hundred acres of oats at least, and we
have only twenty acres in our field. Oh! Jack!" he continued, "let us
get every horse and every man we can, and make ready for the oats.
Just think! one hundred acres of oats, five or six thousand bushels,
perhaps more, besides the potatoes."

"Oh, well, they won't be along to-day, Kalman, so keep cool."

"But we will have to break this year for next," said the boy,
"and it will take us a long time to break one hundred acres."

"That's so," said Jack; "it will take all our forces hard at it
all summer to get one hundred acres ready."

Eagerly the boy's mind sprang forward into plans for the summer's
campaign. His enthusiasm stirred French to something like vigorous
action, and even waked old Mackenzie out of his aboriginal lethargy.
That very day Kalman rode down to Wakota to consult his friend Brown,
upon whose guidance in all matters he had come more and more to depend.
Brown's Canadian training on an Ontario farm before he entered college
had greatly enriched his experience, and his equipment for the battle
of life. He knew all about farming operations, and to him, rather than
to French or to Mackenzie, Kalman had come to loo