Bert and Nan soon learned to do good work at the sorting bins, watching what the expert workers did, and Mr. Watson, pausing near them once or twice, said they were doing very well. Mrs. Bobbsey, knowing a lot about peaches, for she had canned many of them, was able to work with the best of them. Nor was Mr. Bobbsey far behind.
“I’m glad you Bobbsey folks came out to Cloverbank,” chuckled the farmer, during a lull in the work. “I never had such a big crop of peaches before, and good workers are scarce.”
“We’re working for our board,” Mrs. Bobbsey said, with a laugh. “And that reminds me, Mr. Watson! Your wife said she would like you to send a few baskets of peaches to the house, as some friends of hers are going to stop for them during the day.”
“I’ll have Zeek take out some ripe ones,” was the answer, and this was done, the baskets of peaches being set on the porch of the farmhouse.
It was just before noon, and Bert and Nan were having a race to see who could sort the most peaches, when suddenly there arose a great shouting outside the barn.
“What’s that?” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Maybe somebody else upset a load of peaches,” suggested Bert.
But Freddie, who was near the open door of the barn, began to dance in excitement at something he saw.
“They’re running away! Oh, look at the runaways!” he cried.
“Are the horses running away?” asked his father, for Mr. Watson was using a team to haul wagonloads of peaches in from the orchard.