Mr. Leonard, Peter, and Frank were loading the hay into a big wagon, while Donald raked after them.
"There's a shower coming," said Uncle Robert, pointing toward the west.
All paused and looked at the bank of clouds just coming into sight along the western horizon.
The air was still and sultry. Great beads of perspiration rolled down the faces of the haymakers.
"It's going to rain, sure," shouted Mr. Leonard, "and we must hurry or this fine hay will be spoiled. Harness up the horses to the other hayrack, Frank and Donald—be quick!"
The boys did not need urging. They felt the need, and ran to the barn.
"Bring some extra pitchforks!" shouted their father after them.
Uncle Robert pulled off his coat, and the spirit of his boyhood days came back.
Susie seized a rake and began to gather the scattered hay and pile it on the cocks.
The fresh span of horses galloped into the field. Frank brought them to a stand between two long rows of haycocks.