"I daon't, hey? Wa'al, I do, by heck. I own all the way daown and all the way up frum this farm, and thet's ther law."
"If we didn't have these ladies with us we'd be only too glad to leave your field," rejoined Jimsy, "but you can see for yourself a nasty storm is coming up."
"What bizness hes gals riding round in them sky-buggies," stormed the farmer; "ef any darter uv mine did it I'd lock her up on bread an' water, by Jim Hill."
"I don't doubt it in the least," smiled Peggy sweetly.
"Humph!" grunted the cantankerous old agriculturist, not quite sure if he was being made fun of or if his resolution was being admired; "all I got to say is thet ef you want to stay here you gotter pay."
"That can be arranged," spoke Jimsy, with quiet sarcasm.
"An' pay wa'al, too," resumed the farmer tenaciously.
"How much do you think the lease of your field for an hour or so is worth?" asked Roy.
The farmer considered an instant, and then, with an avaricious look in his pin-point blue eyes, he looked up.
"'Bout ten dollars," he said, at length.