Letting his horses stand, Pete came trotting. Jed left his work on the house and came too. Alec, who hadn't missed any meals and was far too excited to eat anyhow, continued to plow. Cindy gave the men their portions and took her own. Too anxious to get back to work to have time for talking, the men ate hurriedly and silently. They took smaller second portions and handed their plates back to Cindy. "Here you are, cook," Pete grinned. "Would you like some more?" Cindy asked. "If I eat any more, I'll bust." "Will you plan supper for after dark?" her father asked. "We shouldn't waste any daylight. I want your mother and sister out here as soon as possible." "And I want my father and mother," Pete said. "I know they're anxious to come, too." "The important thing," said Mr. Simpson, "is to get the houses finished and vegetable gardens in. We'll have all summer to build barns for our stock and plow wheat land." "We'll have to record our claims," Pete reminded him. "That's true, but we can ride into Plains City and do that in a day." Mr. Simpson's eyes rested on Alec. "I hate to see that boy doing a man's work, but for a little while he must. There's so much to do and so few to do it." "I'll help," Cindy offered. Her father shook his head. "I don't believe in girls or women doing heavy field work, Cindy. You just see that our meals are ready." Jed went back to work on the house. Pete continued plowing furrows around his own homestead, and Cindy spent the remainder of the afternoon cooking a big pot of beans. It was very nice to keep house for her father, Pete, and Alec. But it was also very boring. Cindy was glad when night fell and they came in from their work. After he'd eaten enough biscuits and beans to stuff a small horse, and washed it down with cold water, she looked hopefully at Alec. It would be fine to have a game, any kind of game, but Alec had worked very hard and now he nodded very sleepily. Cindy could not ask him to romp with her. They slept in the wagon, which was much better and more comfortable than just sleeping on the ground. But Mr. Simpson was up and had the breakfast fire started before dawn. They had finished breakfast and were ready to go back to work by the time it was light enough to see. "Just a cold snack at noon, Cindy," her father said. "We mustn't stop long enough for a hot meal." "Yes, Daddy," said Cindy. She washed the dishes and thought of the endless hours ahead. Mightily she wished she had someone to play with, but the only other youngsters around were boys like Alec who had to help their fathers, or children like the Wentworths', and what almost grown-up girl wanted to play with babies? The hardest work of all, Cindy found, was having nothing to do. Finally a happy idea occurred to her, and she went to where her father was working on the house. Mr. Simpson stopped his work. "Would it be all right," Cindy asked, "if I fixed your lunches and left them in the wagon?" "What are you going to do?"