He arrived expecting disappointment.
Ethan checked the card.
One in inventory.
Condition excellent.
The man stared when Ethan placed it on the counter.
“That’s it.”
“You sure?”
“I’ve looked at that number enough to see it in my sleep.”
“How much?”
Ethan hesitated.
“Sixty.”
He expected resistance.
The farmer pulled out cash immediately.
“Worth every penny.”
That transaction taught Ethan more about pricing than any business book could have.
Sixty dollars sounded absurd for old cast iron until compared with the cost of replacing equipment, delaying planting, or losing time searching.
Value lived inside context.
Still, most of Ethan’s collection was not treasure.
He discovered that too.
Hundreds of plates were common.
Some were so common he could not sell them for more than a few dollars.
Several had damage that made them unusable.
Thirty-two were cracked.
Dozens had pitting severe enough to affect seed release.
Some numbers fit machines so obsolete almost nobody still operated them.
Ethan refused to pretend otherwise.
Raymond approved.
“Fastest way to ruin a parts business is tell everybody every piece is rare.”
Ethan started grading condition.
A.
Clean, straight, minimal wear.
B.
Usable with normal wear.
C.
Display or emergency use only.
Scrap.
The first time he placed a plate into the scrap bin, he felt strangely guilty.
Raymond laughed.
“You paid for scrap.”
“Some of it gets to fulfill its destiny.”
By planting season, the calls increased sharply.
Farmers opened sheds after winter.
Machines came out.
Problems appeared.
Bell Farm Repair’s phone rang constantly.
Raymond finally made Ethan pay for a separate line extension in the back room so customer calls did not monopolize the main counter.
Ethan’s mother became less critical once she realized the original $180 had been recovered.
One evening, he placed the amount on the kitchen table.
His mother looked at it.
“What’s that?”
“My original investment.”
“You made it back?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
She counted.
Then looked at him.
“So now you’re done?”
Ethan smiled.
His grandmother started laughing before he answered.
His mother closed her eyes.
“Oh no.”
Ethan reinvested most of the profit.
Not blindly.
That mattered.
The first purchase had been instinct.
Future purchases would require information.
Raymond heard about another dealership cleaning out an old warehouse.
The tip came from the same scrap buyer who had laughed at Ethan at Whitford.
Raymond encountered him at a farm supply store.
The man said:
“Your kid still collecting those circles?”
“Apparently.”
“There’s a pile at Brenner Implement.”
“They’re scrapping next Thursday.”
Raymond told Ethan.
Ethan drove there Saturday.
This time, he brought binders.
Cards.
A flashlight.
Calipers.
Pencil.
Clipboard.
The owner expected him to buy everything.
Ethan did not.
He inspected.
Many plates duplicated inventory he already had.
Others were heavily worn.
He found twelve numbers he had received requests for but never stocked.
Those mattered.
He bought selected lots.
The seller frowned.
“Why not take all?”