It was about four o'clock, and Lincoln was tired. His neck ached, his toes were swollen, and his tongue called for a drink of water. He got off the plow, after turning the horses' heads to the faint western breeze, and took a seat on the fence in the shade of a small popple tree on which a king-bird had a nest.
Somebody was galloping up the road with a regular rise and fall in the saddle which showed the perfect horseman and easy rider. It was Milton Jennings.
"Hello, Lincoln!" shouted Milton.
"Hello, Milt," Lincoln returned. "Why ain't you at home workin' like an honest man?"
"Better business on hand. I've come clear over here to-day to see you——"
"Well, here I am."
"Let's go to Clear Lake."
Lincoln stared hard at him.
"D'ye mean it?"
"You bet I do! I can put in a horse. Bert Jenks will lend us his boat—put it right on in place of the wagon box—and we can borrow Captain Knapp's tent. We'll get Rance to go, too."