could hold it to git into it."

"I hardly ever take it off," said Wallie. "I've been so busy I haven't
had time to think how I looked, but I hope now to have more leisure.
Pinkey," impressively, "I believe my troubles are about over."

"Don't you think it!" replied Pinkey, bluntly. "A dry-farmer kin have
six months of hard luck three times a year for four and five years,
hand-runnin'. In fact, they ain't no limit to the time and the kind of
things that kin happen to a dry-farmer."

"But what _could_ happen now?" Wallie asked, startled.

"It's too clost to bed-time fer me to start in tellin' you," said Pinkey,
drily.

"You're too pessimistic, Pinkey. I've prepared the soil and seed
according to the instructions in the Farmers' Bulletins from Washington,
and as a result I've got the finest stand of wheat around here--even
Boise Bill said so when he rode by yesterday."

"Rave on!" Pinkey looked at him mockingly. "It's pitiful to hear you.
You read them bulletins awhile and you won't know nothin'. I seen a
feller plant some corn his Congressman sent him and the ears was so hard
the pigs used to stand and squeal in front of 'em. But of course I'm
glad you're feelin' so lucky; I'm scairt of the feelin' myself for it
makes me take chances and I always git a jolt for it."

Wallie's face was sober as he confided:

"If anything went wrong I'd be done for. I'm so near broke that I count
my nickels like some old woman with her butter-and-egg money."

"I guessed it," said Pinkey, calmly, "from the rabbit fur I see layin'
around the dooryard."

"Nearly everything has cost double what I thought it would, but if I get
a good crop and the price of wheat holds up I'll come out a-flying."

"If nothin' happens," Pinkey supplemented.

"I want to show you one of those bulletins."

"I've seen plenty of 'em. You can't stop 'em once you git 'em started.
Them, and pamphlets tellin' us why we went to war, has killed off many a
mail-carrier that had to fight his way through blizzards, or be fined
fer not deliverin' 'em on schedule. I ain't strong fer gover'mint
literature."

Wallie stepped inside the cabin and brought out a pamphlet with an
illustration of twelve horses hitched to a combined harvester and
thresher, standing in a wheat-field of boundless acreage.

"There," he said, proudly, "you see my ambition!"

Pinkey regarded it, unexcited.

"That's a real nice picture," he said, finally, "but I thought you aimed
to go in f