So the Harvester's eyes were dancing with fun and a wry grin twisted his lips as he clambered over the banks of the recently dredged river, and looked at its pitiful condition and straight, muddy flow.
"Appears to match the remainder of the Jameson property," he said.

"I don't know who he is or where he came from, but he's no farmer.

Perhaps he uses this land to corral the stock he buys until he can sell it again." He went down the embankment and began to search for the location where he formerly had found the ginseng.

When he came to the place he stood amazed, for from seed, roots, and plants he had missed, the growth had sprung up and spread, so that at a rapid estimate the Harvester thought it contained at least five pounds, allowing for what it would shrink on account of being gathered early.

He hesitated an instant, and thought of coming later; but the drive was long and the loss would not amount to enough to pay for a second trip.