tation of the boy's appearance
to make any impression upon his hearer he would have been disappointed.
But, without any confessed reason for so doing, Caleb had aimed rather
at the opposite effect. And Allison turned from it with a large,
matter-of-fact indifference, to rise and bow to Sarah Hunter, who
appeared that moment in the doorway.

"Surely--surely," he echoed Caleb's suggestion. "Take him down and
give him a ride! McLean'll be glad of the chance to show someone his
pet buzz-saws and things. I'll walk down with you, myself, after
breakfast. I may be away for a day or two, and I want to leave
directions for changes to be incorporated while I'm gone."

At the table that morning Caleb noted that there was no hesitation in
Steve's selection from the silver beside his plate, no waiting to
follow in the lead of Sarah Hunter's choice. He noticed, too, that the
boy's eyes did not once lift to those of Barbara Allison, opposite him.
And while the little girl from time to time joined in the conversation,
he not once opened his mouth to speak, until they were almost ready to
rise from their places.

Allison had been growling genially at the lack of water and the
prolonged drouth which was burning the pasturage to a crisp and
juiceless brown.

"If that everlasting sun would only stop shining for a while," he said,
"if it'd only rain a bit, I'd like to take a trip back north,
a-fishing, before it gets too late in the season."

"You mean you'd like a fishing trip as an excuse to go back north,
don't you, Dexter?" Caleb badgered him.

Allison was smiling blandly, for Caleb's joke over his round-about
methods was an old, old joke, when Stephen O'Mara spoke.

"It's goin' to rain," said the boy.

Allison turned toward him, his eyes again quizzical.

"I suppose so," he admitted. "In the general course of things it'll
come, no doubt, but----"

The boy interrupted him, shaking his head.

"It's goin' to come before mornin'," he stated inflectionlessly, "and
it's comin' to stay fer a spell, too!"

And Allison did not try to hide his broad grin of amusement.

"You think so, do you, sonny?" he dismissed the matter not unkindly.
"Well, at that, your guess when it comes to the weather, is about as
good as the next man's."

Once more the boy shook his head.

"I ain't guessin'," he finished unabashed. "Ner I ain't thinkin' it
will. It'll jest be rainin', come sun-up, and it'll be good for 'til
Wednesday, fer sur