"You seem more concerned about Mr. Harding than I expected."
"He gave your brother his coat in the blizzard and saved his life," Mrs. Mowbray answered. "That counts for something."
The girl hesitated a moment.
"Well, I'll go to Toronto," she promised.
CHAPTER XIV
A BOLD SCHEME
One morning a week or two after his meeting with Beatrice, Harding drove his rattling engine across the plowed land. His face was sooty, his overalls were stained with grease, and now and then a shower of cinders fell about his head. Behind him Devine stood in the midst of a dust-cloud, regulating the bite of the harrows that tossed about the hard, dry clods. It was good weather for preparing the seedbed, and the men had been busy since sunrise, making the most of it. Spring comes suddenly in the Northwest, the summer is hot but short, and the grain must be sown early if it is to escape the autumn frost.
When they reached the edge of the breaking, Harding stopped the engine, and, taking a spanner from a box, turned to look about. The blue sky was flecked with fleecy clouds driving fast before the western breeze. The grass had turned a vivid green, and was checkered by clusters of crimson lilies. The ducks and geese had gone, but small birds of glossy black plumage with yellow bars on their wings fluttered round the harrows.
"Looks promising," Harding said. "The season has begun well. That's fortunate, for we have lots to do. I'd go on all night if there was a moon."
"Then I'm glad there isn't," Devine replied; "I want some sleep. But this jolting's surely rough on the machine. I wasn't sure that new locomotive type would work. She's too heavy to bang across the furrows with her boiler on board."