"A Chinaman has the system," remarked Noah Ezekiel as they drove away.
"He'll lease a ranch, then take in half a dozen partners and put a
partner in charge of each section of the field. Raisin' cotton is
all-fired particular work, especially with borrowed water--there are as
many ways to ruin it as there are to spoil a pancake. And a partner
isn't so apt to go to sleep at the ditch."

"That is why I went into partnership with Ah Sing," said Bob. "I have
never seen much money made in farming anywhere unless a man who had an
interest in the crop was on the job."

"You bet you haven't," agreed Noah Ezekiel. "Absent treatment may
remove warts and bad dispositions, but it sure won't work on cockleburs
and Bermuda grass."

For several miles Bob's mind was busy.

"Noah," he asked, abruptly, "how would you like to go into partnership
with me and take over the management of that hundred and sixty acres we
cultivated last year?"

"As my dad used to say," replied Noah Ezekiel, skeptically, "'Faith is
the substance of things hoped for'; and as I never hope for any
substance, I ain't got no faith--especially in profits. Whenever I
come round, profits hide out like a bunch of quails on a rainy day. I
prefer wages."

Bob laughed. "Suppose we make it both. I'll pay you wages, and
besides give you one fifth of the net profits."

"I reckon that'll be satisfactory," agreed Noah. "But any Saturday
night you find yourself a little short on net profits, you can buy my
share for about twenty dollars in real money."

As they crossed the line Noah Ezekiel inquired:

"But if me and the Chinaman raise your cotton, what are you goin' to
do?"

"Raise more cotton," Bob answered. "You know," he spoke what had been
in his mind all the time, "I never saw anything I wanted as much as
that Red Butte Ranch. It is on that Dillenbeck System and its water
costs about twice as much as on the regular canals, but it is rich
enough to make up the difference."

"Well, why don't you get it?" asked Noah. "Reedy Jenkins is goin' to
lose all his leases inside of a month if he doesn't sell 'em; and with
cotton at six cents, they ain't shovin' each other off of Reedy's
stairway tryin' to get to him first. It's my idea that a fellow could
buy out the Red Butte for a song, and hire a parrot to sing it for a
cracker."

"But that is the smallest part of it," said Bob. "To farm that five
thousand acres in cotton this season would take round