Merker bowed solemnly and went out.  In two weeks pigs appeared.  They became a feature of the landscape, and those who experimented with gardens indulged in profanity, clubs and hog-proof fences.  Returning home after dark, the wayfarer was apt to be startled to the edge of flight by the grunting upheaval of what had seemed a black shadow under the moon.  Bob in especial acquired concentrated practice in horsemanship for the simple reason that his animal refused to dismiss his first hypothesis of bears.

Nevertheless, at the end of the season Merker gravely presented a duly made out balance to the credit of hogs.

Encouraged by the success of this venture, he next attempted chickens.  But even his vacant-eyed figuring had neglected to take into consideration the abundance of such predatory beasts and birds as wildcats, coyotes, raccoons, owls and the swift hawks of the falcon family.

“I had thought,” he reported to the secretly amused Welton, “that even in feeding the finer sorts of garbage to hogs there might be an economic waste; hogs fatten well enough on the coarser grades, and chickens will eat the finer.  In that I fell into error.  The percentage of loss from noxious varmints more than equals the difference in the cost of eggs.  I further find that the margin of profits on chickens is not large enough to warrant expenditures for traps, dogs and men sufficient for protection.”

“And how does the enterprise stand now?” asked Welton.

“We are behind.”

“H’m.  And what would you advise by way of retrenchment?”

“I should advise closing out the business by killing the fowl,” was Merker’s opinion.  “Crediting the account with the value of the chickens as food would bring us out with a loss of approximately ten dollars.”

“Fried chicken is hardly applicable as lumber camp provender,” pointed out Welton.  “So it’s scarcely a legitimate asset.”

“I had considered that point,” replied Merker, “and in my calculations I had valued the chickens at the price of beef.”

Welton gave it up.

Another enterprise for which Merker was responsible was the utilization of the slabs and edgings in the construction of fruit trays and boxes.  When he approached Welton on the subject, the lumberman was little inclined to be receptive to the idea.

“That’s all very well, Merker,” said he, impatiently; “I don’t doubt it’s just as you say, and there’s a lot of good tray and box material going to waste.  So, too, I don’t doubt there’s lots of material for toothpicks and matches and wooden soldiers and shingles and all sorts of things in our slashings.  The only trouble is that I’m trying to run a big lumber company.  I haven’t time for all that sort of little monkey business.  There’s too much detail involved in it.”

“Yes, sir,” said Merker, and withdrew.

About two weeks later, however, he reappeared, towing after him an elderly, bearded farmer and a bashful-looking, hulking youth.