the only reason Will Watterby can keep him."

"Are they both asleep?" asked Bob, whose mind skipped topics with
amazing rapidity. "All right then, let's go out to the barn.
Something tells me if you look around you'll get a basket of eggs."

They had great fun doing the work together, and both agreed that if
they never thanked the Peabodys for another thing, they could say
truthfully that they were thankful for the knowledge of farm work
learned on Bramble Farm. Bob knew what to feed the animals, how to
take care of them, and even what to do for a severe nail cut one of
the cows had suffered. Betty gathered a basket of eggs with little
hunting and also found several rat holes which Bob promptly attended
to by nailing tin over them.

"We can't start in and repair the whole place," he said cheerfully.
"But we'll do little jobs as fast as we come to them."

Both sisters were soundly sleeping when, the chores finished, Betty
and Bob came back to the house. They had their lunch, and then Bob
brought the dilapidated old lawn mower around to the back porch to
see if he could put it in running order. Betty sat down near him,
with the doors open so that she could hear the slightest movement
within the house, and worked fitfully at her tatting. She was
learning to make a pretty edge, under Grandma Watterby's instruction,
but it did not progress very quickly, mainly because Betty was always
going off for long rides, or playing somewhere outdoors.

"Look at that cloud of dust!" said Bob suddenly, glancing up from his
tinkering. "Some one is going somewhere in a hurry. He's stopping.
Why, Betty, it's Ed Manners!"

Manners was a Flame City youth, a lad of about eighteen, and the son
of the postmaster. Bob and Betty ran down to the road to see him as
he stopped his motorcycle with skillful abruptness.

"Will Watterby told me you were out here," he called as soon as he
saw Bob. "Say, two more wells caught last night, and they say it's
absolutely the biggest fire we've ever had. The close drilling has
made the trouble. Remember how Mr. Gordon used to rave over so many
derricks on an acre? Don't you want to come with me, Bob? I'd take
you, too, Betty, but it is no place for a girl."

Ed Manners waved an inviting hand towards the side-car. Bob was eager
to go--what boy would not be?--and he knew that not to go would mean
that he was missing something which in all probability he would never
see again.

"Go ahead, Bob," urged Bet