At the feed store, the men who had once laughed at Eli were following the newspaper reports with renewed interest. Drought had made them willing to question habits that would have seemed untouchable in an ordinary season. One farmer wanted to know whether rock could help keep moisture around a newly planted orchard, while another asked whether it might work on a steep slope where every thunderstorm stripped away topsoil. Henderson warned them not to assume the same arrangement suited every crop or field, and Thomas found himself repeating the warnings he had once treated as his son's unnecessary caution.
A man named Walter Pike came to the Barnett property with his hat in his hands and a notebook nearly as worn as Eli's. He had been among the first to laugh at the wheelbarrow on the county road, and Eli recognized his truck before it stopped. Walter stood by the gate for a long moment, looking toward the greenest section of the beans, then cleared his throat and asked whether the boy had a few minutes to explain the layout.
Eli looked toward his father. Thomas was repairing a hinge on the barn door and gave the smallest nod without leaving his work. Eli invited Walter into the field, showed him the original strip, and explained why the first two arrangements had failed. When Walter asked whether he could copy the method, Eli told him he should begin with a test plot and, if possible, ask Clara Bell to examine his soil first.
"You going to charge me for the lesson?" Walter asked, attempting a joke that landed awkwardly between them. Eli shook his head and said there was nothing to charge for, because the idea had come from paying attention to stones already lying on the ground. Walter removed his cap, studied it for a moment, and said he had been unkind earlier in the summer. It was not a long apology, but it was enough that Eli could hear the effort behind it.
"I was wrong about you," Walter added. Eli considered what to say and found that the expected satisfaction of hearing the admission was smaller than he had imagined. "I didn't know if it would work either," he replied. "I'm still finding out." Walter nodded, and they continued walking along the rows.
Other visitors followed. Some came out of curiosity; others had fields in worse condition than the Barnetts' and wanted any idea that did not require buying expensive equipment. Eli showed each of them the comparison areas, the notebook, and the places where the stones had made no meaningful difference. A few appeared disappointed that there was no simple secret he could reveal in three sentences.
One man asked whether he should spread stone across ten acres immediately. Eli told him no, and Thomas joined the conversation to explain the labor involved in the half-field trial. They talked about the sled, the hours, the soil preparation, and the risk of making cultivation more difficult if the stones were placed carelessly. The man left thoughtful rather than excited, and Eli counted that as a better result than sending him home convinced he had found a cure for drought.