"Poor Mrs. Kump!" said Alene.
The others laughed.
"Oh, there will be plenty for her. Eat all you wish, Alene; Mat and Hugh are noted pickers, there's no fear of our taking home empty buckets," said Laura.
Alene's lips were soon in the same state as Ivy's. The air had given her a sharp appetite, and when in the course of the morning, Laura found a package of sandwiches and tarts hidden under the seat of the surrey, she declared that nothing had ever tasted quite so good as the portion she disposed of, along with her tin of clear cold water from a neighboring well.
While enjoying luncheon her eyes wandered over the berry patch which sloped gently upward to the road. A great many children and a few men and women were scattered over the field, stripping the bushes.
Across the patch a barred gate led to fields of pasture, and some of the boys on the safe side of the fence were goading a great red bull into a state of frenzy.
As he tossed his head and bellowed, stamping and goring the ground, Alene was glad there was a strong fence between them. She thought she recognized among the mischievous lads one of the crowd they had passed on the road in the early morning.
The girls brushed away the crumbs of the feast and went back to the bushes, while the boys returned the borrowed water bucket to its owner, who lived a short distance up the lane.
Alene was busy picking the ripe berries from an unusually heavy-laden branch, rejoicing to see her measure filling so rapidly, when she heard a terrified shriek.
She jumped to her feet, letting the cup fall from her grasp, and turned to find the other girls standing with horror-stricken faces, gazing across the patch. In a moment she knew what had happened. The wide, barred gate had become unfastened in some way, probably by one of the boys. It was standing wide open and the angry bull had come through and was seen tearing like a mad creature in the middle of the patch.