"If only we hadn't sold Black Prince," she mourned, "we could just cart these melons into Martindale and make a whole lot on them. There, why didn't I think of that before? Mike peddles garden truck in the city, 'most every day. I'll just have him tote these along. I've got--let me see--twelve, sixteen, seventeen, twenty-one good ones, besides my big fellows. I wonder if that will be enough. I'm going right over and see Mike now. He is at home today; I saw him." She skipped away through the garden to the O'Hara place, some distance below them, and finding the red-haired boy grinding an ax in the dooryard, she startled him by her breathless demand, "How much do watermelons sell for in the city?" "Shure an' it depinds on the size." "Mine are great big ones. Mrs. Grinnell says they ought to bring a pretty penny in Martindale." "Well, thin, I think maybe they'd be bringing a quarter." "Each one?" "Shure!" "And how much would that make if twenty-one were sold?" "Five dollars and a quarter," promptly answered Mike, who was quick at figures and proud of the accomplishment. "That would be enough," cried Peace in great glee. "All I need is two dollars and a quarter. Come on over to my house and pick them right away." "What?" yelled Mike, wondering if the child had gone crazy. "Oh, I forgot! I haven't told you yet, have I? You can sell my melons in the city for me if you like and save me the trouble." The boy stared at her, transfixed by her complacent self-assurance. "Has the cat got your tongue?" Peace asked, when he did not speak. "No, but you have your nerve," he stuttered. "What d'ye take me for,--a dray horse?" "You've got a mule team, haven't you?" flared Peace, seeing no occasion for his anger. "And you peddle truck nearly every day. Then I don't see why you can't take my melons and sell them. Black Prince is gone, and we can't drive about any more ourselves." "Well, where do I come in? Melons take up a sight of wagon room, nothing said of the time it will take to sell them. And then you expict me to do it all for nothing!" "I--I hadn't thought about that," faltered Peace; and, sitting down on the windmill platform, she pulled a pencil stub from her pocket and began to do some figuring on the sole of her shoe. Mike watched her serious face in amusement, and grinned broadly when, after five minutes of vigorous scratching and hard thinking, she released her foot and said in her most business-like tones, "I'll tell you what I will do. If you can sell all those twenty-one melons at twenty-five cents each, you can have half the money for your trouble. That will still leave me enough to get our family inside the Fair. Will you do it?" Mike scratched his head thoughtfully and then replied, "I'll take a look at thim melons first."