“Well, sit down here,” answered Will Adams. “We’ll talk it over.”
CHAPTER XIV
HARVEY MEETS WITH A LOSS
Jack Harvey and Tom Edwards had made good their escape—escape from their own friends. Alas, they knew not how near they had been to the end of all their troubles. As it was, now that they were out of sight and sound of the farmhouse, the whole adventure seemed amusing. Harvey leaned against a tree and roared with laughter.
“You’re a sight!” he exclaimed to his companion. “I’d like to see you walk into a store now and try to sell a man some goods. Oh, but I’m winded. How we did scoot.”
Tom Edwards was, indeed, nearly used up, from the dash across the fields. His shabby garments were covered with wisps of hay and straw; his very hair was filled with it. His face was stained with the dust of the hay-mow and the exertion of running. Altogether, he looked not unlike some huge fowl, half plucked, with short feathers sticking out here and there. His shoes, much worn and breaking through, were miry with the soil of the corn field. He looked himself over, as Harvey spoke, and a grim smile overspread his face.
“I nearly died under all that hay,” he said. “And when that chap came into the mow and walked toward me, I had to hold in with might and main to keep from letting out the biggest yell I ever gave in my life. I expected that pitchfork to go into my leg every minute. If it had, there’d have been one scared farmer in Maryland, I tell you.”
Harvey roared again. Then his face grew serious.
“Poor old Tom!” he exclaimed. “You’ve had the hardest time of it right along. I thought, one time, you wouldn’t stand the winter at the dredges. Well, we’re through now, though. Lucky I saved that money. We’ll get down to the shore, and find out about the boat. Then, hooray for Baltimore!”
“And after Haley!” added Tom Edwards, emphatically. “I’m going to put him where he belongs.”
“And I’m going to put this where it belongs,” remarked Harvey, drawing forth a biscuit, from his pocket. “I’m hungry enough to eat some of that hay, back in the barn. Here’s a piece of corn bread, too. It’s good, if George Haley did cook it. It wasn’t meant for the crew, that’s why.”