"If I think of anything else," offered Berkeley, kindly, "I'll tell you."
"We wish you would."
Fresno returned to the house, humming cheerily. It was still an hour until his breakfast-time, but he had accomplished much. In the midst of his meditation he came upon Miss Blake emerging upon the rear porch.
"Good-morning!" he cried. She started a trifle guiltily. "What are you doing at this hour?"
"Oh, I just love the morning air," she answered. "And you?"
"Same here! 'Honesty goes to bed early, and industry rises betimes.' That's me!"
"Then you have been working?"
Fresno nodded. He was looking at four cowboys who were entering the gymnasium, staggering beneath dripping gunny-sacks. Then he turned his gaze searchingly upon the girl.
"Were you looking for Speed?" he asked accusingly. "The idea!"
Miss Blake flushed faintly.
"If you are, he has gone for a run. I dearly love to see him get up early and run, he enjoys it so. To give pleasure to others is one of my constant aims. That is why I learned to sing." "I have been baking a cake," said Helen, displaying the traces of her occupation upon hands, arms, and apron, while Fresno, at sight of the blue apron tied at her throat and waist, felt that he himself was as dough in her hands. "I had a dreadful time to make it rise."