Noah nodded. "It was in one of the old engines. Took some research to confirm what it was."
Harold glanced toward the machinery in the yard. "So there really was something valuable in all that scrap."
"There were useful parts," Noah replied. "But I didn't know which ones when I bought it. That's why it took so long."
The farmer remembered his joke and shifted his weight awkwardly. "I told you it was a waste of money. I guess I spoke too soon."
Noah did not need an elaborate apology. He had spent enough time being wrong himself to understand how ordinary the experience could be. "I wasn't sure it would work, either," he said. "You weren't wrong that most of the engines were in bad shape. I just wanted to find out whether there was anything left worth saving."
Harold looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "That's fair. My brother's got an old generator with a missing drive component. Can I get your number?"
Noah handed him a simple printed card bearing WALKER DIESEL SERVICE, his contact information, and the words PART IDENTIFICATION AND DOCUMENTED USED COMPONENTS. He explained that he would need the generator's identification numbers and photographs before offering an opinion. Harold took the card, read it, and tucked it into his wallet. The exchange lasted less than a minute, but it would have seemed impossible to the boy standing beside the trailer at the first auction.
The manager watched with a thoughtful expression. "You're really doing this, then. Actually running the old Walker shop."
"Small operation," Noah said. "Mostly research and parts work right now. I'm still in school."
"Your grandfather Earl was a good mechanic. People around here still talk about him."
Noah looked toward the engines lined against the fence. "I know. I'm trying to do it right."
The manager grew quiet, then gestured toward a section of the yard where damaged equipment waited to be sorted. He said he had begun noticing how often buyers passed over an entire machine because one major component was ruined. Some of those machines contained parts worth removing, provided someone could identify and inspect them properly. He offered to set aside certain castings and assemblies for Noah to look at before they were sent for scrap, with no promise of a sale or obligation to take anything.
Noah thanked him and said he would be interested in inspecting suitable items when his schedule allowed. He also made clear that he could not handle unlimited quantities and would not accept things simply because they were free. The manager seemed amused by the caution, but he nodded. He had seen enough buyers accumulate piles they never turned into anything useful to understand that the teenager's answer was not foolish.
Noah spent the next hour examining the liquidation lot. He found one industrial accessory assembly with a legible number that warranted further research and another component whose condition made it an obvious reject. He took photographs, copied the available documentation, and asked for the terms of any possible purchase. After running the numbers, he bought only a small, manageable group of items he could reasonably evaluate and transport.