They went back to the hotel to sleep that night with the feeling that an enemy had suddenly been transformed into a friend. Mr. Farr promised to help them in every way he could; at the same time he was careful to assure them that business was business, and he would still hold them to the strict letter of the mortgage. But this time Alice laughed, and he did not seem offended.
They expected Bob to come up on the train next morning, but he failed to arrive. It seemed unwise to remain away from the bee-yard any longer, so they embarked immediately for the voyage up the river.
It was a fine, sunny morning. The rains had broken the drought, and the air was full of the moist heat that makes good honey weather, but the raspberry bloom was long since over.
The harvest was past; the bee-season was practically done, and they had saved themselves, if only by the skin of their teeth. Now that the money was paid, they both felt the reaction from the strain and fatigue of the last weeks. The thought of their finances depressed them. They had not two hundred dollars in the world.
“If we’d only had some more of this weather a month ago!” said Carl.
“Yes, it would have meant hundreds of dollars. But there’s no hope of anything more from the bees this year,” Alice replied.
“Worse than nothing! For we’ll probably have to feed them sugar to winter on, perhaps a hundred dollars’ worth. It’ll leave us nearly broke, I’m afraid. Alice, we’ll have to go to the city this winter and do as I proposed.”
They rowed up the river for a long way in silence. Then Alice, trying hard to speak hopefully, said, “Anyhow, we’ve got a lot of valuable property, and next year—”
“Hark!” Carl interrupted. “What’s that?”
He had stopped rowing, and there was dead silence in the wilderness. A jay called noisily from a treetop, and then again silence fell. After a minute, as Alice listened, she seemed to hear a deep, murmurous hum from the woods along the shore.