“More seed?” repeated his brother, in amazement. “Why, you had enough for that whole field. What on earth have you done with it?”
“Sowed it, of course.”
“Dumped it, you mean,” grinned Ted. “Look! I’ve got half of mine left. There won’t be room for your alfalfa to grow, it will be so thick.”
“And your Durum will be so thin you can drive a team between each stalk,” retorted Phil.
“Well, my seed will last to cover all the land I want, which is more than you can say for your alfalfa. If you keep on as you’ve started, you won’t have enough to plant one field, instead of four. And you know the storekeeper said we had a plenty for four.”
“Perhaps you can make it last longer, I can’t. I don’t believe that man in Bradley told the truth,” snapped the elder boy.
“Now don’t get peevish. Go back to camp, get some more seed, and when you return, I’ll show you how to sow it.”
In no pleasant mood Phil started off, only to return at full speed, beckoning frantically to his brother.
Surprised at such actions, and the more that Phil uttered no word of explanation, Ted ran to meet him.
“There are two men at the hut, and they are throwing our things out,” gasped the elder boy, in a hoarse whisper, as they came within easy hailing distance.