"It don't look too good," said Maggie.
"It don't. There's worse to come," went on Mrs. Elliott, taking a look into the wood box. "What's more, there wouldn't have been a dry stick in the house if that horrid little man had had his way. I don't know what the boss keeps him for."
"The boss himself is got pretty cranky," said Maggie. "It's time he took a pull on himself."
"It is, Meg."
The storms pursued each other from dawn to the middle of the day. In the space of moments the sky would blacken, thunder would peal out and a flare of lightning split the heavens. The rain would drum again on the iron roofs. There fell lulls when Power idled on the verandah looking over the country; but towards noon, when the sky was clear for a space, he picked the way to the stables. The ground was filled with pools of water, and the higher land was a morass. There was a bitterness in the air that persuaded him to keep hands in his pockets. He felt dispirited and on edge.
When he pushed open the stable door Scandalous Jack was fussing round the stalls. The big black horse was in a box, and near it a chestnut horse of O'Neill's. Scandalous Jack stopped working with great readiness and shouted salutations of the day.
"Marnin', gov'nor, and a bad one at that! I reckon we'll be carrying our swags to Surprise this time to-morrow if things don't take a pull. Yer see I kept these two inside. They'll do better in than out, and it will be a fool's game running horses for a bit! The black feller don't look bad, do he?"
"He's pretty well," said Power, looking the black horse over.