,
he'd quietly put down twenty soil and water-test holes and carefully
filled them in again. But he'd found what he was after. And that little
army of paid knockers, he acknowledged, had been steered into the
neighborhood where the soil was deepest and the water was nearest. And
that soon showed who the liar was, for of course everything came out as
Dinky-Dunk wanted it to come out!

But this phase of it I didn't discuss with Terry, for I had no desire to
air my husband's moral obliquities before his hired man. Yet I am still
disturbed by what I have heard. Oh, Dinky-Dunk, I never imagined you
were one bit sly, even in business!

_Sunday the Eighteenth_

Olie and Terry seem convinced of the fact that Dinky-Dunk's farming has
been a success. We have saved all our wheat crop, and it's a whopper.
Terry, with his crazy Celtic enthusiasms, says that by next year they'll
be calling Dinky-Dunk the Wheat King of the West. Olga and Percy went
buggy riding this afternoon. I wish I had some sort of scales to weight
my Snoozerette. I know he's doubled in the last three weeks.

_Sunday the Twenty-fifth_

My Dinky-Dunk is home again. He looks a little tired and hollow-eyed,
but when the Boy crowed and smiled up at him his poor tired face
softened so wonderfully that it brought the tears to my eyes. I finally
persuaded him to stop petting Babe and pay a little attention to me.
After supper he opened up his extra hand-bag and hauled out the heaps of
things he'd brought Babe and me. Then I sat on his knee and held his
ears and made him blow away the smoke, every shred of it, so I could
kiss him in my own particular places.

_Tuesday the Twenty-seventh_

Dinky-Dunk has sailed off to Buckhorn to do some telegraphing he should
have done Saturday night. My suspicions about his slyness, by the way,
were quite unfounded. It was the guileless-eyed Terry who led those
railway officials out to the spot where he'd already secretly tested for
water and found signs of it. And Terry can't even understand why
Dinky-Dunk is so toweringly angry about it all!

_Wednesday the Twenty-eighth_

When Dinky-Dunk came in last night, after his drive out from Buckhorn,
there was a look on his face that rather frightened me. I backed him up
against the door, after he'd had a peep at the Boy, and said, "Let me
smell your breath, sir!" For with that strange light in his eyes I
surely thought he'd been drinking. "Lips that