"Well," he said, "nobody would figure you'd been farming, unless you use the scythe down in Ontario. They're sure binders!"
He turned and smote Thorne encouragingly upon the shoulder.
"Mavy, it's the Hunter crowd! Guess you're going to have no trouble getting your crop in now!"
Thorne got down and leaned against the wheel of the binder. His face had grown paler than usual, and he felt almost limp with the relief which was too great for him to express. It was several moments before he broke the silence.
"They can't be here for a while. I think I'll have a smoke."
His companion nodded sympathetically.
"That's what you want, Mavy. Then you'll be fresh for a hustle; and we'll have to move quite lively to keep ahead of the Hunter boys. Hunter's no use for slouches and he knows how to speed up the crowd he hires."
He called to his horses, and the other man fell to work behind him when the machine clattered on, but Thorne sat down among the sheaves. He could now allow himself a brief relaxation, and for once his grip was nerveless, for his heart was overfull. His cares had suddenly vanished, and there was, he almost thought, victory in front of him. He had some trouble in shredding the tobacco to fill his pipe, and when the operation was accomplished he lay resting on one elbow watching the teams draw nearer with a satisfaction which came near to overwhelming him. By the time he had smoked the pipe out, however, he had grown a little calmer, and rousing himself he stood up and walked out upon the prairie to meet the newcomers. Hunter was driving a wagon in front of them and he stopped his team when he was a few yards away.
"We'll soon clean that crop up," he declared cheerily when Thorne had clambered to the seat beside him. "I've brought the smartest of the boys and the newest machines along."
"Thanks," Thorne replied simply. "Just now I can't say anything more, except that in one way I'm sorry you were able to come."