Before Hiram could cross the ditch and start around the lower end of the wheat field, as he intended, he saw the dappled pony coming up the hill. There was somebody beside Miss Pringle on the seat of the buggy.
"Hey, Hiram! Wait!" called the spinster. "I want you to see who I have here."
Hiram had already given a second glance. He saw a slim, prettily dressed figure with a flower-like face under a shade hat. For a half minute or so the boy had no idea who this person could be. He only realized that she was a very pretty girl.
And then Miss Pringle's companion smiled. Hiram fairly jumped.
"Sister!" he shouted, and strode down the hill to meet the dappled pony.
At that moment he heard a wild yell from Yancey Battick. The man came running along the lower edge of the field. He bore high above his head a handful of the grain which he had torn up by the roots. His lean face was actually pale.
"Strong! Look here! They've got us!" he cried.
"Who has got us? What is the matter?" demanded Hiram, startled into forgetting Sister and her wonderful appearance for the moment. "What's turned that wheat in your hand yellow so early?"
"Do you see it? Do you see it?" shouted the excited Battick. "It's being eaten alive! Little green bugs—not the Hessian fly. It is a pest I never saw before. It wasn't there the other day. I tell you, they've got us!" concluded the man in a hopeless tone of voice.