Mr. Wingate did not like the arrangement. But he could do nothing about it.
The Mexicans drove at once to the Hooper orchard. Soon the trees were dotted with lighted lanterns as the professional strippers went to work with a will.
“Will you save your fruit, Mr. Hooper?” Miss Gordon asked the orchard owner anxiously.
With the Brownies and their parents, she had stopped at the shed to see how the work was progressing.
“I hope so,” Mr. Hooper answered. “But it will be nip and tuck. That storm is rolling up fast, and it looks like it will be a bad one when it breaks.”
“Why don’t we all pick?” Connie proposed.
Miss Gordon had been thinking of the same thing. She had hesitated to suggest it, however, knowing that it was after eight o’clock. The Brownies, she knew, should be home in their beds.
“I could use a dozen more pickers,” Mr. Hooper said before the Brownie leader could reply. “If I had them, I might beat the storm!”
“May we pick?” Connie appealed to Miss Gordon.