'Them!' she said. 'They've got less than us! I got it from those mean measuring men.'
Hermie looked puzzled.
'She must mean that camp of surveyors down the road,' Bart said. 'It's a mile away at least. Why, you poor old Flossie, have you been right down to that camp for this little drop of water?' He put his disengaged arm over her bony little shoulders.
Floss caught her breath, and looked unhappily into the half-full bucket.
'The first one was fuller,' she said, 'but the s-sheep nearly knocked me down to g-get it, and they s-s-spilled it on the g-ground.' Her voice shook with sorrow for the waste.
'Twice,' muttered Bart, 'she's been twice, Hermie.'
They were back among the sheep now, and Bart hardly knew what to do with such a drop among so many.
'This one,' said Floss; 'look at its poor eyes—and that one lying down, and the little lambs, Bartie.'
Bart put the bucket to the noses of the ones she touched, but had to drag it away before the poor things had half what they wanted.
A piteous bleat went up from the others.