"It is thunder!" exclaimed Will. "Say, I do believe it's going to rain. Won't dad be glad!"
"He sure will," spoke Jed.
"But I'm afraid it's too late to do any good," went on Will.
"Nonsense! There you go again. Always looking on the dark side of things. Why don't you say the rain will do all sorts of good?"
"I suppose I'm not built that way. But I hope it does."
"Of course it will. Come on. Let's hurry up. I don't want to get wet."
"I'll be glad to," declared Will. "Seems as if I never was so hot. I'd like to get in a tubful of ice water and stay there an hour or so."
As the lads unhitched the horses from the cultivators, leaving the machines in the field, in readiness for the work on the next day, and started homeward with the steeds, the rumble of thunder became louder, and there were flashes of lightning in the western sky.
"She's a-coming!" cried Jed. "It'll be a corker, too, after this long dry spell."
The boys had scarcely reached home before it began to rain. First there were only a few large drops, each the size of a half dollar. There was no wind, and the crack of thunder seemed like the discharge of heavy guns.