sound of reapers still going. Men were
shouting blithely, while voices of women and children came from the
cabins, where yellow lights began to twinkle.

Anson and Bert, blackened with dust and perspiration and weary to the
point of listlessness, sat with elbows on knees, talking in low, slow
tones on the never-failing topic, crops and profits. Their voices
chimed with the sound of the wagon.

"There's the light," broke out Ans, rousing himself and the team;
"Flaxen's got supper all ready for us. She's a regular little Trojan,
that girl is. They ain't many girls o' fourteen that 'u'd stay there
contented all day alone an' keep all the whole business in apple-pie
order. She'll get her pay some day."

"We'll try to pay her; but say, ol' man, ain't it about time to open up
our plans to her?"

"Wal, yes; it is. You kind o' start the thing to-night, an' we'll have
it over with."

As they drove up, Flaxen came to the door. "Hello, boys! What makes ye
so late?"

"Finishin' up a field, babe. All done."

She clapped her hands and danced up and down.

"Goody! all done at last. Well, yank them horses out o' their harnesses
an' come to biscuits. They're jest sizzlin' hot."

"All right. We'll be there in about two jerks of a lamb's tail in
fly-time. Bert, grab a tug; I'm hungry as a wolf."

It was about the first of September and the nights were getting cool,
and the steaming supper seemed like a feast to the chilled and
stiffened men coming in a little later and sitting down with the sound
of the girl's cheery voice in their ears. The tea was hot; so were the
biscuits. The pyramid of hot mashed potato had a lump of half-melted
butter in the hollow top, and there were canned peaches and canned
salmon.

"Yes: we're about finished up harvestin'," said Bert, as they settled
themselves at the table, "an' it's about time to talk about gittin' you
off to school."

"Don't worry about that. It ain't no great job, I reckon. I can git
ready in about seventeen jiffies, stop-watch time."

"Not if you are goin' away off to some city in the East----"

"Yes: but I ain't, y' see."

"Oh, yes, you are. Bert an' I've be'n talkin' it all over f'r the last
three weeks. We're goin' to send you back to St. Peter to the
seminary."

"I guess not, pap. I'd like to know what you think you're a-doin'
sendin' me 'way back there. Boomtown's good enough fer me."

"There, there, Flaxie; don't git mad. Y' see, we think they ain't
anythin' g