ou another minute. I'll find
another hole and see if they will do any better there." So from mound to
mound she scurried, digging the grain up into view, and then watching
for the appearance of the tenant--with no result.

"Well, of all provoking people!" cried an indignant voice behind her,
and there were Cherry and Allee crawling under the fence. "How long have
you been sitting there like a bump on a log? You didn't drop enough
dandelions, and we had an awful time following you. What on earth are
you doing here? Let's go up to the pump for a drink. I am nearly burned
up." Without giving the weary Peace a chance to answer her questions,
she raced away through the pasture toward the house, dragging Allee with
her; and the third girl, after one last, hopeless glance at the gopher
hole, followed more slowly.

Some time later Hope came tearing across the field, with hair flying,
and her eyes filled with alarm, calling shrilly, "Gail, Faith, the hens
have broken out of the yard and are eating the poisoned grain! There are
more than a dozen down there now!"

"Oh, dear," cried Peace, with guilty conscience, "I scratched the corn
out of the holes so's I could watch the gophers die. And I let the hens
out, too, 'cause they looked so hot shut up in that mite of a yard after
they have been running loose for so long."

With despairing eyes, Gail looked down at the dying fowls, and not
daring to trust herself to speak, she hurried away to the house to sob
out her grief alone.

Faith paused long enough to count the hapless hens, clutched the
wretched culprit and shook her vigorously, then silently followed her
older sister, leaving the heartbroken child alone with the victims of
her curiosity.

"Did you ever see my equal?" she said aloud, addressing herself. "You
are the worst child that ever lived! You wash the labels off the spice
boxes so Faith gets ginger instead of mustard in her salad dressing; you
try to milk cows and break their legs instead; you spoil cakes and steal
eggs and bother Gail and Faith till they are nearly crazy; and now
you've taken to killing hens just to see how gophers die. Peace
Greenfield, aren't you ashamed of yourself? Yes, I am, but there's no
use in wasting those perfectly good hens--twenty of them--we had only
forty in all. It's a wonder the rest of them didn't get a dose, too.
Hope has got them locked up at last. There comes Cherry; I'll make her
help. Oh, Cherry, here's a job for you!"

"Wh