What the fellow had been doing about Sunnyside at the time of the tornado in June, Hiram had never discovered. He certainly had not remained at home for long on that occasion. Yancey Battick was not at all convinced that Banks had not come straight from Loomisville for the express purpose of burning his stack of wheat. Battick still clung to the belief that the men who had stolen his Mortgage Lifter Oats had information of the new wheat, and were determined to ruin his chances of raising a crop of it for seed if they could do so. Adam Banks would be a perfect instrument to their hands, he declared, and he felt that Banks must be watched closely.
However this might be, Hiram did not wish to tempt the ne'er-do-well to try any further tricks about Sunnyside Farm. Hiram, with Orrin and Jim Larry, were always on the keen lookout for Adam Banks. Orrin, by this time, was in good health and quite able to defend himself in any case. His ability to work well and his willingness pleased Hiram immeasurably. If only the fellow was not so secretive about his past! Hiram knew little more about Orrin Post now than he had when he found him in the calf shed, eight or nine months before.
Orrin in all this time had never mentioned his family, his friends, where he was born, or what his circumstances had been before he came to Sunnyside Farm. His having been driven away by his former employer when he was taken ill, was positively all the information he had vouchsafed.
Hiram had learned that he had come through Pringleton the day he had arrived at Sunnyside. Previous to such arrival, however, Orrin Post's life was a total blank to the young farm manager.
Hiram did not believe that Orrin's previous life had been a happy existence. It might be even that he had had trouble with the police, and for that reason was so close-mouthed. Nevertheless, Hiram kept such thoughts as this to himself. For his own part he accepted Orrin Post at his face value.
The three young fellows at Sunnyside used the kitchen to cook and eat in, set up their cots in the dining room, and occasionally on a rainy day or on Sunday sat in the parlor, where they could watch the road through the broad windows.
They were doing this last on one dripping Sunday afternoon, when Jim spied a vehicle coming up the hill from the direction of Battick's and Pringleton. He did not identify the horses or the man driving them.
"Stranger in this neighborhood," he announced. "That fellow driving has got a bushel of whiskers on his face. Did you ever see the like?"
Hiram was reading and did not even get up to look out. Orrin, however, examined the approaching turnout at some length, but he made no comment and finally drifted out of the room. Hiram heard him open and close the back door just as Jim exclaimed:
"Hey! Old Whiskers is stopping here. He's waving his whip and calling. What do you suppose he wants, Mr. Strong?"