on, as there are already a dozen or more men who will begin
elegant residences as soon as the land is surveyed."

"Do you know, professor, who owns that point jutting into the lake?
It is a fine building site."

The speaker was a tall, sharp-featured man of middle age, whom his
friends addressed as doctor.

"No," answered the professor, "but I think a man named Pylant is the
owner, and that the twenty acres beyond belong to a Dutchman in Eustis.
However, we do not wish to make inquiries at present. They saw us when
we came out, and should we go back now and value their land, they will
put on four prices. Our policy is to go back as though we were
disappointed in the land, and by the time we return next week they will
offer it at our own figures. We can probably get it for two to four
dollars an acre. It is thirty miles from any town, and as Pylant got it
from the government, four dollars will be a big price to him."

"And in twelve months it will be worth as many hundred," said the
doctor.

Tom and Dave looked at each other curiously, and wondered how they would
feel if they owned a few acres on this hillside.

At the end of the week--for the two days' work had lengthened into
five--the boys were paid fifteen dollars, and told they would be soon
wanted for several months, should they care to return.

Everything was found safe at the shanty, and the boys went to work at
the stumps with a will. At the end of the third day, the last root was
reduced to ashes, and then Dave set to work to prepare a supper suitable
for such an occasion. Fried quail (which they had snared), orange slump,
pineapple shortcake, baked beans and a pot of steaming coffee graced the
table (or rather box), while by way of dessert a pillow-case full of
oranges, picked up in a neighboring grove, stood by the side of the
banqueting board.

Next morning the boys went to see Mr. Pylant.

"So you've cleaned it up, have you?" he exclaimed, as the boys told him
their errand. "I saw last week it was most done. Reckon you'll want a
little money and the rest in land. Sharp boys! know land is best--goin'
up, goin' up all the time."

"But if you please, Mr. Pylant, we'd rather have the money," said Dave,
quietly.

"Money!" exclaimed the "cracker," in astonishment. "Why, boys, in one
year there'll be a city on that land, and you'll be rich. The lots I let
you have for thirty dollars'll be worth a fortune."

"We don't want any lots," replied Dave, de