"Shall we yoke up the steers and take the wagon down into the potato-patch? We can be as long as we please filling it."
"Yes, we may as well take it down there and leave it," Wad assented; and the steers were yoked accordingly.
Lord Betterson was not surprised to see the wagon go to the potato-patch, where he thought it might as well stay during the rest of the season, as anywhere else. But he was surprised afterward to see the three boys—or perhaps we should say four, for Chokie was of the party—start off with their hoes and baskets.
"We are going to let you shoot the prairie chickens this forenoon," said Rufe. "You'll find the gun and ammunition all ready, in the back-room. We are going at the potatoes."
Link went ahead and pulled the tops, and afterward picked up the potatoes, filling the baskets, which his brothers helped him carry off and empty into the wagon-box; while Chokie dug holes in the black loam to his heart's content.
"We might have had a noble crop here," said Rufe, "if it hadn't been for the weeds and pigs. Wad, we mustn't let the weeds get the start of us so another year. And we'll do some repairs on the fences this fall. I'm ashamed of 'em!"
CHAPTER XX.
MORE WATER THAN THEY WANTED.
A doctor from North Mills came once a week to visit Cecie and the sick mother and baby. One afternoon he brought in his chaise a saddle and bridle, which he said a young fellow would call for in a day or two. The boys laughed as they put the saddle away; they knew who the young fellow was, and they hoped he would have a chance to use it.