“The picking here is nearly finished. My people are tired of the place. So we may move farther north.”
“Surely you wouldn’t leave until Mr. Hooper’s cherries are picked!” Veve said in dismay.
“Who knows?”
“But that wouldn’t be fair,” Connie interposed. “Mr. Hooper would lose at least half of his fruit harvest if the pickers left without coming to his place.”
“He has been expecting the crew for several days,” added Eileen. “The fruit is too ripe now. We heard the canning factory man say it would have to be picked fast, or it will be rejected.”
“Then the orchard people should treat us better. If we move on, it is only themselves they have to blame.”
“Mr. Hooper wouldn’t mistreat anyone,” Veve insisted. “He isn’t a bit like his cousin, Carl Wingate.”
“You tell your people that,” Connie urged. “It just wouldn’t be fair to Mr. Hooper not to pick his cherries.”
“I will tell them,” Juan promised soberly. “We do not have anything against Mr. Hooper. But the townspeople have no liking for us. At the stores they charge us more for food. We cannot use the beaches or have any pleasures.”