He had walked five miles, when, to the left, he saw an elderly man hard at work in a hay field. He was leaning on his rake, and looking perplexed and troubled. Carl paused to rest, and as he looked over the rail fence, attracted the attention of the farmer.
“I say, young feller, where are you goin’?” he asked.
“I don’t know—exactly.”
“You don’t know where you are goin’?” repeated the farmer, in surprise.
Carl laughed. “I am going out in the world to seek my fortune,” he said.
“You be? Would you like a job?” asked the farmer, eagerly.
“What sort of a job?”
“I’d like to have you help me hayin’. My hired man is sick, and he’s left me in a hole. It’s goin’ to rain, and——”
“Going to rain?” repeated Carl, in surprise, as he looked up at the nearly cloudless sky.
“Yes. It don’t look like it, I know, but old Job Hagar say it’ll rain before night, and what he don’t know about the weather ain’t worth knowin’. I want to get the hay on this meadow into the barn, and then I’ll feel safe, rain or shine.”