“Why, it's a few miles to the right, over them hills,” the rider said. “It's the Womack farm. That's my name. I've got a hundred acres of dandy Elbertas, and they are ripening as fast as chickens in a hatching-machine. They are a thing that has to be picked an' got off in cold-storage cars at exactly the right minute or they ain't worth the nails in the crates when they get to market. They say if all us early fellows can manage to hit New York just right this year, we'll get three dollars a crate, an' that will pay big, as times are now.” “How far is it to your place?” Walton asked. “Why, it's a little better than seven mile--on a beeline; but I reckon by the nighest road it's a matter of ten or thereabouts. You fellers look a little mite tired, but by stiff walking you could get there by sundown. You can make good wages in a pinch like this if you will buck down to it--I calculate three plunks a day for each of you.” “And how long would the work last?” inquired Fred, as he and Warren looked at each other, their pulses quickening, their eyes beginning to glow. “Well, I could hold you down for two weeks at least, for mine don't all ripen at once; but after you was through on my land you could go farther north and get more to do.” “I think we'd better take you up,” Warren said. “I'd like that sort of work.” He winked at his friend and rubbed his stomach. “I see myself _packing_ good, ripe, juicy peaches right now, but not in crates. The truth is, farmer, we are mighty hungry, and that is a long walk. Now, if you had fifty cents about you that you'd be willing to let go in an advance, why we'll buy a snack at some farm-house, and go right on to you.” The horseman's shrewd face fell. He leaned forward and ran his gnarled fingers through the mane of his horse, and avoided the pair of anxious eyes fixed on his. “I don't want to be blunt and hurt your feelings, fellers,” he said. “But we never come together before--we are plumb strangers, I might say; and, well, to tell the truth, last year I started out on this same business, and to my certain knowledge not a man, woman, gal, boy, nor baby that I advanced money to ever got to my place, while all the others who wasn't paid was there bright and early.” “But we are hungry and weak!” Dick Warren protested. “Well, some o' them that I failed to get told the selfsame tale. One said if I'd pay off the mortgage on his land, he'd bring his entire family; but that wasn't _business_, and I refused. I'm making you fellows a fair open-and-shut proposition. You hit my place before dark to-night and tell my wife to give you a square meal--tell her I've hired you to pick and pack, and that I said to stow you away somewhere for the night. She will make room for you. Now, I hope I'll see you there. That's as good as I can offer, as I look at it.” “All right, we'll be there,” Walton promised. “And we will do the best we can for your interests.”