Hiram had a multitude of things just now to take up his time; yet he made a pilgrimage to each farm in the vicinity to discover which wheat fields, if any besides that on Sunnyside, were affected by the new pest. The English grain louse had not been seen in this part of the country he was sure, previous to a few months before. "It bred on Banks's land," Mr. Turner told Hiram Strong. "When I first saw the critter during the winter--Banks called me over to show it to me--I told him I'd plow up that wheat as soon as I could, if I was him, and plant something else--spring wheat, or oats, or something. It was a puling kind of crop anyway. And it's a sight now!" "I presume his land is poor?" "You presume just right. And he's shiftless. Don't raise more than half a crop of anything. Don't keep cattle--they are too much trouble, he says--and his farm is getting poorer and poorer." "I've seen his kind of farmer before." "You bet you have! I've often thought, Mr. Strong, that a shiftless neighbor is worse than a dishonest one. You are on the watch for a thief; but a shiftless or lazy man will make more trouble than forty thieves, I do believe." Hiram considered that Mr. Turner was about right. He went far enough with the old man to look at the Banks' wheat. It was completely blighted by the pest and to Hiram's mind would scarcely be worth thrashing. Besides, when the binder went through the field he knew very well that the pest would lodge on the weeds and grass that bordered the grain, and would thus exist--a serious menace--until the new wheat appeared in the fall. "Do you know what I would do if I had money, Mr. Turner, and owned a farm next to this one?" the young farmer said. "What would you do?" asked the old man suspiciously. "I'd offer Banks a price for his standing grain and then burn it." "Hey! You surely would have money to burn," grumbled Turner. "Get the other neighbors to go into the deal with you. It will save your crops in the end. First you know, you'll have to give up raising grain to starve out the pest. And maybe that won't do it." "'A fool and his money are soon parted,'" said Turner. "Maybe," Hiram rejoined slyly. "But how about a fool and his wheat?" "Huh!" was Turner's only comment. Meanwhile, Hiram learned that Adam Banks had been at home over Sunday and on that occasion could easily have brought the specimens of the grain pest to the fields on Sunnyside. He would never have a chance to repeat the trick, however--if he was guilty--for there was a guard at the wheat field every night, and by day some of the workmen were always in sight of the piece of seed-wheat. Hiram Strong enjoyed Sister's visit immensely. The girl seemed just like a bit of home--the only real home Hiram had known since he was a child. Had she been really his sister he could have thought no more of her. And she was still a healthy, wholesome girl. She was not growing up too fast, as he sometimes thought Lettie Bronson was.