Karl looked out of the greenhouse at the back of his home and ran the numbers. They did not add up. The greenhouse was breaking even, but it was not making much of a profit if any at all. If it were flat instead of running up a steep hill, and if the owner cut out the cost of labor, it could bring in more as storage. Building it where it was built was not the best use of the money. The two new bathrooms, one on top of the other, were recently added on and came with a rent increase but nothing like what the increase should have been.

Something was fishy. Something was going on. Things were just not right. Karl was sure he was missing something. For the life of him he just could not figure out what.

****

Peter sounded wistful. "We need to build a helicopter."

Paulus shook his head. "Forget it. You need aluminum, titanium and gyros."

Peter countered, "Therese says her father heard they could make gyros where he works."

Paulus shook his head again. "You still need aluminum and titanium. Iron is too heavy and wood won't handle the stress."

"How do you know so much about it?" Peter demanded.

"I had the same science class you did. I paid attention. We could build an airplane, but the Monster is already running commercially and airports are starting to pop up all over the place. We've missed the tide. By the time we could get into the business, there's going to be too much competition."

Peter answered, "Which is why we need to build a helicopter. It doesn't need a runway. It can land anywhere."

Ludwig spoke up. "Peter, you just want to fly and they told you not to bother applying for pilot training until you had a G.E.D. or a diploma, which you don't want."

"I wouldn't mind having a diploma," Peter said.

"Not badly enough to buckle down and learn what you need to pass the tests. You'll get a certificate of attendance instead of a diploma, because you can't pass the exit exam."

"I don't need a diploma," Peter said.

"You need one when you go looking for a job," Ludwig said.

"Shoot, Ludwig, when it comes to job hunting if there's a high school diploma involved, I'm going to be the one asking for it, not offering it. I don't need a diploma."

"Peter," Ebert said in a sad voice, while shaking his head, "You're an idiot."

In a much repeated mantra, Paulus said to his younger brother, "Shut up, Ebert."

"Besides, math is boring," Peter said.

"Maybe to you, but you got to have it to fly. Ebert has volunteered to tutor you," Ludwig said.

Peter frowned in response. "A helicopter would be a good investment."

Ebert chirped, "No, it wouldn't. Basic research and development is expensive. Second wave development is much more profitable."

Ludwig weighed in. "Get your head out of the clouds and talk about railroads."

"Up-time the railroad companies were dying. The lecturer on railroads said so," Peter argued.

"And when he did he was talking about long range passenger service. Short range passenger service and long range hauling of bulk items like coal and iron ore were completely unaffected by air travel, but you weren't listening to that part of the lecture," Paulus said.

Ludwig pushed his idea. "You've had the class on old American history. You remember the teacher talking about the railroad barons and the oil barons. I know you do, because we've talked about it before. There are fortunes to be made in railroads. We need a railroad."

Ebert frowned. "Ludwig, you're right. There are fortunes to be made in railroads. But we don't need one of our own. We just need shares in a lot of different lines as they grow. We need to put in a buy order with Joshua for railroad offerings. But we need to keep it down to five or ten percent. We don't need controlling interest. We can't really afford it, anyway. If we could, we would be putting all of the eggs in one basket. Five percent is all we need. Like the merchants in Venice. Don't buy a boat. Buy five percent in twenty different boats. Look, that Dutch outfit has announced three more airships. We need to buy a piece of each of them."

"Yeah, but, a helicopter would be so neat," Peter said.

Ebert agreed. "Yes, it would. When someone has worked out the kinks, we should talk about it. Until then, table it. We can't do it ourselves and we sure can't hire it done."

"Look guys, as chairman of the McAdam's Mining Company, I called this meeting for one reason."

The four of them were sitting in the tree house behind the dwelling their three families shared, a house which the boys had purchased unbeknownst to their parents. As the landlord, they put in some major improvements. They added two more bathrooms so every family had one of their own. Then they bought a washing machine and clothes dryer. When they did, the parents were frantic. The rents were going up, maybe even double, they feared.

****

Ludwig's mother, puzzled, proud, and a little bit shocked, pulled the gang of four aside. "Did you boys come up with enough money to buy the house?"

None of them said anything. They were all busy looking anywhere but at her. She was the only one of their six parents who had any idea that the boys had more money than they made doing odd jobs and raising mushrooms for Lyndon Johnson and she had no idea just how much more. They had to have an adult sign for them to open the bank account. She was the one mother who was arguing with her spouse against going back home since things had quieted down.

When no one answered, she actually swatted Ludwig on the rump, hard. "You young fools! You've scared the life out all of us. Peter, your father has another room lined up and he is going to move while it is still open, since the rent here is going to go up. Ludwig, if we have to move, your Papa says we might as well move back home and he's making plans to do it and he might not wait for the rent increase either.

"Get in touch with your renting agent and have him tell us the rent is going up ten dollars a month per family to pay for the improvements. We save that much not going to the Laundromat. And while we're talking about money, Paulus, if buying the house didn't completely wipe you out, give your mother enough to buy those new winter coats she's been wanting. Yes, the old ones are still warm, but she's right. Your whole family looks like beggars and it's embarrassing to have you coming and going out the front door.

"You should have set your father up in a shop with your half of the money instead of buying the house. Working in the mine is killing him. He's a cobbler, not a miner. He is not used to the heavy work of shoveling coal. Not that all three of them aren't coming home half dead from being buried under ground all day."

Late the next morning the rental agent came around.

"The rent's going up ten a month per room. Next, the owner is going to put a stove in the garage. Do you know anyone who might be interested in opening a shop?"

Ludwig's mother spoke up. "Arnulf is a cobbler."

"Yes," Arnulf's wife said, "but you need more than shop space. You need a work bench and tools and supplies. Making enough to pay the rent at what rent costs here in Grantville, I just don't know . . ."

"Well, talk to him about it. Figure out what all you need to get started. The landlord will buy it and then we can include it in the rent," the agent said.

"But, with people buying shoes from the Wish Book, do you think he can make the rent and make a living?" she asked.

"Hey, your boys are part of the mushroom company right? I heard about them. Tell them to start getting orders for shoes. If anyone can find enough business to keep a shop busy, it's them.

"The other thing I wanted to tell you—I think your landlord is just plain crazy. You know the cliff face behind the house?" The hill behind the house wasn't a cliff face. It was a sixty degree incline with a southern exposure. It was all second growth brush from being clear cut five or six years before. "Well, he wants it cleared, and terraced. Then he's spending a fortune to build a greenhouse. Like I said, I think he's nuts. But you know up-timers. They want fresh vegetables year around. And even with what the grocery store is charging for winter tomatoes, I figure it will take him years to recoup his costs but . . .

"Anyway, with you living right here and all, he said to tell you he'd pay the going rate for miners if your three husbands want the job of clearing the land and running the greenhouse. Of course, if they'd rather play it safe and stick with the mine, I sure wouldn't blame them. Talk it over and let me know."

When the boys got home from school, Ebert's mother raised an eyebrow at them and shook her head in wonder, but never said a word.

The boys barely looked the idea over when they ran the numbers. A greenhouse was as close as they could come to a farm without having to move. If it didn't work out, the glass would sell second hand for just about the same price it would new and if they had the frames made up right they could sell them as ready-made windows. They already owned the land. A deciding factor was the size of the greenhouse. It would barely keep two men busy so there would not be any call for them to help out.

Both projects should at least break even. It should put a stop to any more talk of leaving Grantville, which was worth taking a capital loss on an investment.

The improvements wiped out the savings account. They even had to draw a bit of money out of a mutual fund. But the mutual funds were turning a consistent profit and the high-risk, high-gain ventures which now made up twenty percent of their portfolio were mostly doing very well.

****

That was several months ago. Now, once again, Ebert was agitating about the evils of idle capital.

Paulus said, "I'm sitting on the door and I'm not getting up until we've settled the only item on the agenda. Ebert claims we have too large of a surplus in our savings account. I am sick and tired of my kid brother whining about it being too big. Do we tell him to shut up or do we put some if it to work?"

"I think he's right," Peter said. "I think we need to invest some if it in a helicopter company."

"No. Absolutely not." Ebert was adamant. "I'd let it set there at zero interest before I agreed to a helicopter company. Let's get the whirly-bird off the table. Do we need to put it to a vote?"

Peter looked sour.

Ebert shrugged, "It might be a good idea later, Peter. But not right now."

With three to one against, the item was dead. If the votes had been three to one in favor, they would have tried to argue or browbeat the fourth member into agreement. Without consensus they would not spend a dime. Twice now the only thing between the gang of four and a substantial loss had been Ebert's stubbornness.

"So," Paulus said, "do we let the savings account sit or do we invest some or all of it?"

"Guys," Ebert spoke up first, "the idea was to have some emergency cash on hand as a cushion. Ten percent of the profits from the mutual fund go into savings and the rest turns over. I have gotten used to having money and what seemed like a big enough emergency fund when we started doesn't seem so big any more. On the other hand, the cheese and mushroom mine have been cranking out a steady return.

"I'm getting sick and tired of getting up in the dark and making early morning deliveries of the cheeses and mushrooms we picked the night before. Let's quit living like paupers and hire some more help. Besides, we are going to have some competition for both the cheese and the mushrooms before much longer anyway.

"We've been putting the rents, cheese and mushroom money into the savings. This is the money I think we should do something with."

"What?" Peter sullenly demanded. It was clear he was ready to argue against anything at all since he couldn't get them to even consider a helicopter.

"If we can't agree on anything else put it the mutual fund," Ebert said.

"But Ebert," Ludwig said, "we need some spec capital for odd lots like the things the other kids at school come up with."

"That's small change and you know it," Ebert said.

"So are the mushrooms," Peter said in what amounted to an aside which was overlooked by Ludwig and Ebert.

"True," Ludwig answered. "It's usually little stuff, but some of them are paying off and could pay off big. The money we fronted to that guy to build a push cart to deliver milk, eggs, bread, and the newspaper is up to six carts and he has over two dozen kids working mornings before school. We own fifty-one percent of it.

"When most people figure the mine is Lyndon's and the school house investments are ours, we get some respect but no one is bugging us. Our big ticket items go through Joshua and no one is asking him where the money is coming from. It's good camouflage. We don't have to hire body guards and worry about being kidnapped like what almost happened to Judy. If we ever have to hire bodyguards, our fathers are going to ask why. You know they will want to run the business and none of us want that."

"So?" Ebert asked, "Are you against tapping the overage in the savings account or not?"

"The overage? No. Just make sure the base is large enough."

"Vote," said Peter.

With three ayes, Peter said, "I still think we should start a helicopter company. Okay. I vote aye. Now, how much do we take out and what do we do with it?"

Paulus got up off of the trap door. "That is a question for another day. We've settled whether or not to tap the savings account. We can decide what to do with it later. Right now, if we hurry, we can make it to the ball field before they pick sides for the afternoon."

****

Two days later, Monday in school, a science teacher hailed Peter in the hall. "Peter?"

"Yes, Mister Beckworth?"

"Could you round up your three accomplices and meet me in the lab right after school? I want to talk to you."

"Sure. What about?"

"A business proposition."

"I know there are a lot of wild rumors going around, Mr. Beckworth, but we don't really have anywhere near the amount of money some people think we do. Mostly we deal with students."

Tyler Beckworth smiled a smile which Peter read as "save it for the tourists, I know better." "Oh, I think you will be interested in what we have to share. See you in the lab."

When the lads arrived, Tyler was waiting with a fellow too young to be a teacher, but not by much.

"Awstin, these are the boys I was telling you about. This is Peter, Ludwig, Paulus and Ebert. And don't think Ebert is here just because he's Paulus' little brother." With the identical hair line of their white blond hair there was no doubt they were related by blood. "Ebert is the one you have to sell since he is usually the holdout, and you have to get them all on board or the deal is off. Fellows, this is Awstin Jones. He's from Wales. His brother sent him here to study.

"About a month ago," Tyler continued, "a billet of copper he asked for in a letter home caught up with him, two actually." Tyler lifted one end of a cloth which was covering lumps on the table. "This is one of them." Then he uncovered the rest of the table and pointed at each item in turn. "Those five blooms looking like little Christmas trees are pure copper and they are most of what is left of the other billet after we electrically refined it. We took a sixth bloom out to the power plant to the wire pulling line and they tested it. They're ready to buy as much as we can deliver. Then there is the silver, zinc and nickel. There are some other traces in the anode slime which we are still working on."

Tyler flipped over an up-time green board on a rollaway frame. He took a pointer, "This is the price of the billet at the mine. This is the current price on the dock in Amsterdam for the same billet. Here is the price of the same weight in pure copper here in Grantville. You can see the difference in the price of the copper will pay for the refining and shipping. This leaves the trace elements as a clear profit. These are the current value for nickel and zinc dockside in Amsterdam. So the value of what is on the table is . . ." Tyler paused for effect and pointed, ". . . here."

Tyler tapped the bottom line and his presentation ran down. He was waiting like he expected some sort of response. Finally he asked, "Well, what do you think?"

The older boys looked at each other.

Brilliant—and rude—little Ebert blurted out, "What do you want?"

"We thought you would be interested in a business opportunity," Tyler said, a bit taken back. It was clear he had really expected, at this stage, for them to be enthusiastically offering to throw money at the project.

"Of course, we're interested in a business opportunity," Ebert said. "But what you've showed us is a lab exercise. They're already doing something just like this at the power plant."

"But the point is this particular copper is rich in silver. There is a lot of money to be made refining it out."

"So," Ebert repeated, "what do you want?"

"Awstin needs a loan to go home and set up a refinery."

"If you need a business loan, why come to us? The Abrabanels make business loans. Other People's Money front venture capital. Why come to us?"

Tyler looked startled. Awstin looked like he was on the verge of tears. Then, trying to answer the question, Tyler said, "Well, you're here, and I guess I thought we could get a better deal from you. The Abrabanels and OPM only want to loan a percentage of the project and we don't have any money to invest."

"If you want a loan, forget about getting a better deal from us. We are going to charge the same rate of interest you would get from anyone else. Actually, we are going to be higher because a good risk will go to the established lenders. If you want venture capital, we're going to want a slice of the company. For something like this, with the facility being somewhere where we can't keep an eye on it, we're going to be reluctant to put up more than five or ten percent of the capital. If we're putting up all of the capital, then we're going to want ninety percent of the stock. At fifty percent of the capital, we're going to want forty-five percent of the stock." Ebert pulled the numbers out of thin air, but none of his partners contradicted him.

"You gave Hans a much better deal than that. You put up all of the capital for fifty percent," Tyler said. It was clear from his demeanor that the conversation was not going anything like he expected.

"Actually," Ludwig answered, "we took fifty-one percent and the company is right here in town. It was small change and low risk. If it didn't work out, we could sell the cart and get most of our investment back. On this we could lose our shirts. It would be so far away we wouldn't even know it until it was too late. Five percent is about all the risk we would be interested in taking on for a project like this."

Peter got a gleam in his eye. "Look, Mr. Beckworth, Awstin, give us a few minutes to talk about it, okay?"

The boys moved to the far corner of the room and huddled.

There was a lot of head shaking at first but it slowed down and turned to nods.

Peter looked up and said, "Mr. Beckworth, Awstin, Ebert is right. What you have here is a lab exercise. Next you want a full-fledged production company. Let's set up a pilot program. We'll provide the site, pay for the equipment, and for having a ton of copper shipped in. You and Awstin will set it up and Awstin will work it. Then you will have something to show to prospective investors besides a lab project, and we can talk about investing when we've seen a pilot project up and running."

The boys watched as Awstin and Tyler consulted.

Peter whispered, "See, I told you, they didn't think of it; they really did think we would just throw money at them."

Tyler nodded and then looked up and asked, "How big of a pilot project."

"Two or three commercial sized tanks," Peter said.

Paulus elbowed him.

Peter put in a quick save with hardly a pause between the two sentences, "Sounds about right to me, but give us a minute to talk about it."

When the crew came up for air, Peter said, "We can talk about two or three tanks for the pilot project, but we need one for a prototype first."

Tyler glanced at Awstin, who nodded. "Sounds okay," he said.

"Fine," Peter replied. "You guys put together a list of what you need for the prototype and we'll get a contract drawn up. Why don't you plan on being at the Abrabanel's office at four on Wednesday?

On Wednesday, Tyler and Awstin showed up at the Abrabanel offices. The boys were not there. Joshua Abrabanel was authorized to sign contracts for the McAdam's Mining Co. After the school teacher looked the contract over, he objected. "You've got this set up where they own the pilot program lock, stock and output. Awstin and I don't get a thing out of it."

"Yes, you do," Joshua Abrabanel said. "Awstin gets to use their equipment and shop space to work out the process and acquire marketable experience. You get a resume as an experienced consultant. You also get the right to show the facility to prospective investors until Awstin has raised his capital. The boys are putting up the space and the equipment. They are covering the overhead and they are buying the copper. You are going to get what you want. It is just going to take a little longer. I will set it up for you if you like and I can probably see to it you are fully subscribed. But we are going to want to see the system in production."

Tyler frowned. "It sounds all right, I guess. But it feels like we are doing the work for free. Shouldn't we get paid for our time?"

"If you want to sign an employment contract with a non-competing clause, I'm sure I can get you reasonable wages. Is that what you want? Look, you've got to be putting something into this and that is your time. It's a damned cheap investment on your end."

Awstin spoke up. "Tyler, don't screw this up. Sign the contract and then give it here so I can sign it. This is a dream come true! We can work out the kinks without having investors looking over our shoulders making suggestions about something they don't know anything about. So it takes longer than we thought. We won't have anyone screaming about our not paying dividends while we work out the kinks."

After the papers were signed, Joshua said, "We've arranged for you to inspect the copper wire works out at the power plant and to talk to the staff. We also asked about their policy, and you are right. They will be happy to buy our purified copper at a reasonable rate. I've checked. They're offering to pay us what it cost them to buy the raw copper and winnow it. Of course, your copper is going to be shipped in from Wales so it will cost more. But the high rate of silver will make up for it.

"Gentlemen, if you decide to have me draw up the paperwork and find you your start up money, let me know."

****

"Why rent space when we don't have to?" Peter asked.

"That is the point. We do have to. We're raising mushrooms in most of the mine," Ludwig countered.

"But you're missing the point. There are two other mines now starting to sell mushrooms. The price is going to go down. If we cut production, the price stays high. We'll make the same income off of the reduced production rather than being forced to sell at the new lower rate in an over-supplied market," Peter said. "Besides, Ebert has been yapping for months about putting shelves up in the mine so we can raise more and we've been voting him down because we've already met market saturation."

"Hey," Ebert said, "We could lower our prices and put the new mines out of business."

"Sure," Peter argued, "and when we raise the price after the new outfits shut down, everyone will know what we did. Then, when the price is back up, the new mines will go back into production because they will already be set up for it. And we'd get a lot of bad public relations. Right now everybody thinks we're teddy bears. I'd like to keep it that way. We are going to see a drop in income off of the mushrooms. I'd rather see us lose money because of lower production than lower sale price."

"Point," Ebert said. "Besides, the loss in mushroom production would still be cheaper than renting a building in Grantville. I like the idea."

When Tyler saw where they wanted to put the pilot project, he said, "It will work but you will need to put in a good vent fan. I don't know what the fumes will do to the mushrooms. Maybe you should put the electrolysis tank nearer the opening.

"You know, if you put shelves in here you could greatly increase your production," Tyler observed. "You could be raising four or five times what you are."

"We've talked about it," Peter commented. "But the fresh mushroom market is pretty well saturated and we pretty much had all we could look after. Besides the bottom is about to drop out of mushrooms with new sources of supply coming on line."

"Look, your blue cheese is mostly going out of town. Have you asked the cheese buyers if they would want a line of dried mushrooms?"

"That might work," Peter said.

"I've been saying so all along," An exasperated Ebert complained like an oppressed and tortured heretic who was suddenly reveled as a glorified martyr.

"You never said anything about an export market," Peter corrected.

"I didn't realize I needed to. It was obvious. I didn't tell you to breathe either!" Ebert said.

"Shut up, Ebert!" Paulus said a little more harshly than usual. "If we put the electrolysis tank out at the cliff face, we will want to close off the opening to keep the weather out, which is going to stop the air flow through the mine." The mine opened onto the cliff face in two places, so the wind blew in one opening and out the other. "So there's another reason to put in a big vent fan. We need the air flow through the mine to scatter the spores. We can leave some windows for natural light and which will cut down on the cost of light bulbs."

"The way those things cost, I still think we need to open a light bulb factory somewhere," Peter said.

"We've talked about it already," Ludwig replied. "It's been done, the set up cost would be high, and the trained personnel would be hard to come by. The margin doesn't look so good.

"If we need the cliff face boxed in we can hire my father and your father. Both of them are complaining about the lack of overtime and the greenhouse is slack right now." Ludwig said. "Let's go look at the open end."

****

Karl and Manfred, Peter and Ludwig's fathers respectively, walked home from a day of framing the enclosure at a cliff face opening of the mine where their sons worked for Lyndon Johnson.

"Manfred, let me ask you something? Have you noticed Ludwig acting strange since he started hanging out with Arnulf's boys?"

"What do you mean?" Manfred asked.

"Well, before Peter started hanging around with those Catholic kids, he'd tell me everything that was going on. Now he doesn't talk to me at all," Karl said.

"You mean like they're keeping secrets?" Manfred asked.

"I guess. But it's more than that," Karl said.

"They do spend a lot of time together. I wouldn't say Ludwig was acting strange. But, still, have you notice how many odd things have been happening to us lately?"

"Maybe. Like what?" Karl asked.

"Like our landlord putting in two more bathrooms not long after we had a big argument about someone taking too long in the shower and someone threatened to move out. Then the landlord sinks a lot of money into the house and he hardly raises the rent at all when he could be getting twice what he's charging us. Then he turns the garage into a shop for Arnulf and puts up a greenhouse for you to farm and pays us to work in it year round. Almost like he was afraid we'd move out or something if we had to keep working in the mine. But why should he care? He wouldn't have had any trouble finding new tenants."

Karl nodded. "That's exactly what I'm talking about! Well, part of it anyway. We all talked about going home to get out of the mine. But like you said, why would he care?" Then Karl looked thoughtful, "Have you been watching what the crops are selling for out of the greenhouse?"

"No," Manfred said with a rising inflexion which made it a question, or the next thing to it.

"I have," Karl said. "Some months, especially in the summer, he's not even breaking even. Over the course of the year, ...