y cow could blow it down by breathing on it! There, see that
corner? Daisy might have ambled through there."

"Then you go that way, and I'll work around the other end of the
farm," suggested Betty. "In that way, we'll cover every inch. A cow
is such a silly creature that you're sure to find her where you'd
least expect to. The first one to come back will put one bar down so
we'll know and go on up to the house."

Betty went off in one direction and Bob in another, and for a moment
she heard his merry whistling. Then all was silent.

Betty, for a little while, enjoyed her search. She had had no time to
explore the Saunders farm, and though much of it was of a deadly
sameness, the three hills, whose shadows rested always on the fields,
were beautiful to see, and the air was wonderfully bracing. Shy jack
rabbits dodged back and forth between the bushes as Betty walked, and
once, when she investigated a thicket that looked as though it might
shelter the truant Daisy, the girl disturbed a guinea hen that flew
out with a wild flapping of wings.

"I don't see where that cow can have gone," murmured Betty uneasily.
"Bob is never careless, and I'm sure he must have pegged her down
carefully. Losing one of the cows is serious, for the aunts count
every pint of milk; they have to, poor dears. I wish to goodness they
would admit that there might be oil on the farm. I'm sure it
irritates Bob to be told so flatly that he is dreaming day-dreams
every time he happens to say a word about an oil well."

Betty searched painstakingly, even going out into the road and
hunting a short stretch, lest the cow should have strayed out on
the highway. The fields through which she tramped were woefully
neglected, and more than once she barely saved herself from a turned
ankle, for the land was uneven and dead leaves and weeds filled many
a hole. Evidently there had been no systematic cultivation of the
farm for a number of years.

The sun was low when Betty finally came out in the pasture lot. She
glanced toward the bars, saw one down, and sighed with relief. Bob,
then, had found the cow, or at least he was at home. She knew that
the chances were he had brought Daisy with him, for Bob had the
tenacity of a bull-dog and would not easily abandon his hunt.

"Did Bob find her?" demanded Betty, bursting into the kitchen where
Miss Hope and Miss Charity were setting the table for supper.

The aunts looked up, smiled at the flushed, eager face,