ds of the vine from time to
time, and remove some of the side branches."

"We don't do all that to raise a tomato crop. And we'll put in five
acres for the cannery this year, as usual," said Henry, with some scorn.

"We run the rows out four feet apart, like you do, throwing up a list,
in fact. Then father goes ahead with a stick, making a hole for the
plant every three feet, so't they'll be check-rowed and we can cultivate
them both ways--and we all set the plants.

"We never hand-hoe 'em--it don't pay. The cannery isn't giving but
fifteen cents a basket this year--and it's got to be a full five-eighths
basket, too, for they weigh 'em."

Hiram looked at him with a quizzical smile.

"So you set about thirty-six hundred and forty plants to the acre?" he
said.

"I reckon so."

"And you'll have five acres of tomatoes?"

"Yep. So Dad says. He has contracted for that many. But our plants
don't begin to be big enough to set out yet. We have to keep 'em covered
nights."

"And I expect to have about five hundred plants in this patch," said
Hiram, smiling. "I tell you what, Henry."

"Huh?" said the other boy. "I bet I take in from my patch--net income, I
mean--this year as much as your father gets at the cannery for his whole
crop."

"Nonsense!" cried Henry. "Maybe Dad'll make a hundred, or a hundred and
twenty-five dollars. Sometimes tomatoes run as high as thirty dollars an
acre around here."

"Wait and see," said Hiram, laughing. "It is going to cost me more to
raise my crop, and market it, that's true. But if your father doesn't do
better with his five acres than you say, I'll beat him."

"You can't do it, Hiram," cried Henry. "I can try, anyway," said Hiram,
more quietly, but with confidence. "We'll see."

"And say," Henry added, suddenly, "I was going to tell you something.
You won't raise these tomatoes--nor no other crop--if Pete Dickerson can
stop ye."

"What's the matter with Pete now?" asked Hiram, troubled by thought of
the secret enemy who had already struck at him in the dark.

"He was blowing about what he'd do to you down at the crossroads last
evening," said Henry. "He and his father both hate you like poison, I
expect.

"And the fellers down to Cale Schell's are always stirrin' up trouble.
They think it is sport. Why, Pete got so mad last night he could ha'
chewed tacks!"

"I have said nothing about Pete to anybody," said Hiram, firmly.

"That don't matter. They say you have. They tell