“If we can plow for Jasper, we can plow for ourselves. We mustn’t let pleasure interfere with our serious purpose.”
“Oh, rats! But if you are ready to go, I am. Too bad, though, Jasper didn’t build his cabin on the line. We could build ours on our side and you wouldn’t have to waste fifteen minutes riding over. Poor Pat! He’ll wish he was back in Avon.”
Phil’s retort was a snore so studied that the younger boy laughed aloud.
The next morning, both the old settler and Joy urged the young homesteaders to stay the rest of the week, but they pleaded the necessity of getting their land planted as soon as possible.
Although they had bidden the girl good-bye before they went to the barn, Phil kept delaying to start, now that they were ready, with the ponies and cow tied behind and the iron rail in the wagon, his many covert glances toward the cabin indicating that he hoped for another glimpse of Joy.
“Guess you’ll have us for dinner, after all, Mr. Jay,” grinned Ted. “We don’t seem to be travelling very fast.”
A slap of the reins that started the blacks so suddenly they almost jerked the other animals off their feet was his brother’s answer.
But before they had proceeded a rod, Joy ran from the cabin, staggering under the weight of a big basket.
“Here are some things I cooked for you,” she said, as Ted sprang to the ground and relieved her of her load. And as the young homesteaders set out again, she called: “Come over to supper tomorrow night.”
Several times Ted tried to start a conversation, but his brother maintained a haughty silence, and at last he gave it up and began to examine the basket Joy had given them, with the remark that if he couldn’t talk he would eat.