"I thought sure I'd be up by this time," fretted the invalid, the yearning in his heart that pain could not quench turning his sympathy to envy.
"The doctor says you're getting on real well, Ben," said Em steadily.
The young fellow looked down at his wasted hands, gray and ghostly in the twilight.
"Was 'Rene there?" he asked.
"Yes."
"It isn't like having your sister go out to work, Benny," said Mrs. Wickersham soothingly; "just the neighbors, and real nice folks, too. I wouldn't fret about it."
On Wednesday morning, as Em neared the camp, she saw the grape-pickers gathered in a little group before the girls' tent. Steve Elliott separated himself from the crowd, and came to meet her.
"We've struck, Em," he said, smiling down at her from the shadow of his big hat.
"Who's we?" asked Em gravely.
"All of us. They're paying a dollar and a quarter over at Briggs's; we ain't a-goin' to stand it."