the guest room all ready."

"You go up and go to bed this minute," commanded Winnie, whose
invitations, like the queen's, usually brooked no refusal. "Now I know
the wind makes that howl, I'm not the least bit nervous, but I'd rather
have someone around to ask in case something else turns up."

Nothing more of a disturbing nature "turned up" that night and the
household settled down and slept peacefully, secure in the knowledge
that very real protection, in the persons of the two husky lads, was
close at hand. Winnie summoned them at five o'clock the next
morning--knowing that Mr. Hildreth would not easily forgive a delayed
morning start--and actually had coffee and her famous waffles ready for
them at that hour.

"Send for us any time," grinned Warren when he saw the table set.

"Any time you need aid, Winnie--or plan to serve waffles."

CHAPTER VII

AN ADVENTURE FOR SARAH

"Do you have to work all the time?" asked Sarah plaintively.

She sat on the top of a fence rail and, her feet hooked around the next
bar, was placidly, if precariously, watching Richard Gilbert tinkering
with a cultivator that had developed a sudden "kink."

"Well, summer is the time to work, on a farm," Richard answered
good-naturedly. "You have to cultivate the corn when there is corn to
cultivate, Sarah."

Sarah nodded, her eyes on the horse which stood patiently waiting.

"He's shivering," she said. "Look--see him shiver, Rich. And it is
just as hot!"

"That isn't shivering," replied Richard, glancing up from the wheel in
his hand. "Solomon is twitching to shake a fly off--that's all."

"Did he shake it off?" demanded Sarah with interest.

"I suppose so," answered Richard absently, searching for a screw he had
dropped in the dirt.

"I could get the fly batter and swat flies for Solomon," suggested
Sarah. "He'd like that, wouldn't he? I could ride on his back and hit
all the flies, Rich."

"Yes, that sounds like a good scheme," admitted Richard cautiously,
"but something tells me it wouldn't work. If you didn't frighten
Solomon into fits, or start him galloping, or fall off and break your
neck, you'd be sure to distract me from the work in hand and then Mr.
Hildreth would want to know why I hadn't finished the corn. I'm
afraid, Sarah, Sol will have to worry along in the same old way. The
flies aren't bad to-day, anyway."

"Yes they are, he's twitching again," said Sarah. "He ought to wear a
window screen