o bring the drawings you have been using."

"Now where does my programme come in?" inquired the Harvester. "You are
spoiling everything, and I refuse to have my lucky day interfered with;
therefore we will ignore the suggestion until we arrive at the place
where it is proper. Next thing is refreshments."

He arose and coming over cleared the table. Then he spread on it a paper
tray cloth with a gay border, and going into the thicket brought out
a box and a big bucket containing a jug packed in ice. The Girl's eyes
widened. She reached down, caught up a piece, and holding it to drip a
second started to put it in her mouth.

"Drop that!" commanded the Harvester. "That's a very unhealthful
proceeding. Wait a minute."

From one end of the box he produced a tin of wafers and from the other
a plate. Then he dug into the ice and lifted several different varieties
of chilled fruit. From the jug he poured a combination that he made of
the juices of oranges, pineapples, and lemons. He set the glass, rapidly
frosting in the heat, and the fruit before the Girl.

"Now!" he said.

For one instant she stared at the table. Then she looked at him and in
the depths of her dark eyes was an appeal he never forgot.

"I made that drink myself, so it's all right," he assured her. "There's
a pretty stiff touch of pineapple in it, and it cuts the cobwebs on a
hot day. Please try it!"

"I can't!" cried the Girl with a half-sob. "Think of Aunt Molly!"

"Are you fond of her?"

"No. I never saw her until a few weeks ago. Since then I've seen nothing
save her poor, tired back. She lies in a heap facing the wall. But if
she could have things like these, she needn't suffer. And if my mother
could have had them she would be living to-day. Oh Man, I can't touch
this."

"I see," said the Harvester.

He reached over, picked up the glass, and poured its contents into the
jug. He repacked the fruit and closed the wafer box. Then he made a trip
to the thicket and came out putting something into his pocket.

"Come on!" he said. "We are going to the house."

She stared at him.

"I simply don't dare."

"Then I will go alone," said the Harvester, picking up the bucket and
starting.

The Girl followed him.

"Uncle Henry may come any minute," she urged.

"Well if he comes and acts unpleasantly, he will get what he richly
deserves."

"And he will make me pay for it afterward."

"Oh no he won't!" said the Harvester, "because I'll look out