"Miss Wickersham."
Em straightened herself, and pushed back her hat.
"You don't want to give up your job?"
The girl shaded her eyes with her hand. There was an unsteady movement of her chin before she spoke.
"I'd like to work till Friday night," she said.
"Well, I'd like to keep you; but I don't know how it will be. I won't stand any of their nonsense,"—he jerked his head toward the camp; "I'm going to send over to Aliso Cañon for a wagon-load of pickers. I'm pretty certain I can get them, but they'll all be men; you might find it a little unpleasant."
"Who are they?" asked Em.
"Only a lot of ranchers picked up over the neighborhood," said the foreman. "I think I can find enough men and boys who are through harvesting. I'll try anyway."
"Will you be here all the time?" asked the girl.
"All of to-morrow and most of Friday," he answered, wondering a little.