uld make trouble for his folks. Maybe they don't know just how
mean Pete is. A good thrashing--and the threat of another every time he
did anything mean--would do him lots more good."

This wasn't nice Sunday work, but it was too far to carry water from the
house to the horse trough, so Hiram had to repair the pump.

On Monday morning he routed out Sister and Mr. Camp at daybreak. He had
been up and out for an hour himself, and on a bench under the shed he
had heaped two or three bushels of radishes which he had pulled and
washed, ready for bunching.

He showed his helpers how the pretty scarlet balls were to be bunched,
and found that Sister took hold of the work with nimble fingers, while
Mr. Camp did very well at the unaccustomed task.

"I don't know, Hi," said Mrs. Atterson, despondently, "that it's worth
while your trying to sell any of the truck, if we're going to leave here
so soon."

"We haven't left yet," he returned, trying to speak cheerfully. "And you
might as well get every penny back that you can. Perhaps an arrangement
can be made whereby we can stay and harvest the garden crop, at any
rate."

"You can make up your mind that that Pepper man won't give us any
leeway; he isn't that kind," declared Mother Atterson, with conviction.

Hiram made a quick sale of the radishes at several of the stores, where
he got eighteen cents a dozen bunches; but some he sold at the big
boarding-school--St. Beris--at a retail price.

"You can bring any other fresh vegetables you may have from time
to time," the housekeeper told him. "Nobody ever raised any early
vegetables about Scoville before. They are very welcome."

"Once we get a-going," said Hiram to Mrs. Atterson, "you or Sister can
drive in with the spring wagon and dispose of the surplus vegetables.
And you might get a small canning outfit--they come as cheap as fifteen
dollars--and put up tomatoes, corn, peas, beans, and other things. Good
canned stuff always sells well."

"Good Land o' Goshen, Hiram!" exclaimed the old lady, in desperation.
"You talk jest as though we were going to stay on the farm."

"Well, let's go and see Mr. Strickland," replied the young farmer, and
they set out for the lawyer's office.

Mrs. Atterson sat in the ante-room while Hiram asked to speak with the
old lawyer in private for a minute. The conference was not for long, and
when Hiram came back to his employer he said:

"Mr. Strickland has sent his junior clerk out for Pepp