“Wish I was up there, then,” growled Tubby, who had quite collapsed after telling his joke.
“Let’s go!” suggested Frankie.
“There will be plenty of wind bye and bye,” said Dave, thoughtfully eyeing the clouds on the horizon.
“Listen to the weather prophet,” scoffed Ferdinand.
“I tell you!” cried Frankie, jumping up. “Let’s go up into the windmill and see how far one can really see from that height. The farmer’s wife says it is a great view–doesn’t she, Wyn?”
“I’m game,” responded Wyn. “We’ll be no warmer walking than we are sitting here talking about the heat.”
She and Frankie and Dave started off ahead; but Tubby would not come, nor would Grace Hedges. The others, however, saw some prospect of amusement and were willing to pay the price.
They began to be paid for their walk as soon as they came out into the open fields of Windmill Farm. A little breeze had sprung up and, although it was fitful at first, it soon grew to a steady wind from across the lake.
The distant haze was dissipated, and when the boys and girls reached the top of the hill they were glad they had come.
“I bet we have a storm bye and bye,” Dave said. “But isn’t the air up here cool?”