he sun. It had a burn
that felt good. No matter how hot the sun ever got there, she liked it.
Always there seemed air to breathe and the shade was pleasant.

From this vantage-point, a favorite one with Lenore, she could see all
the alfalfa-fields, the hill crowned by the beautiful white-and-red
house, the acres of garden, and the miles of orchards. The grazing and
grain fields began behind her.

The brook murmured below her and the birds sang. She heard the bees
humming by. The air out here was clear of scent of fruit and hay, and it
bore a drier odor, not so sweet. She could see the workmen, first those
among the alfalfa, and then the men, and women, too, bending over on the
vegetable-gardens. Likewise she could see the gleam of peaches, apples,
pears and plums--a colorful and mixed gleam, delightful to the eye.

Wet or dry, it seemed that her feet refused to stay still, and once
again she was wandering. A gray, slate-colored field of oats invited her
steps, and across this stretch she saw a long yellow slope of barley,
where the men were cutting. Beyond waved the golden fields of wheat.
Lenore imagined that when she reached them she would not desire to
wander farther.

There were two machines cutting on the barley slope, one drawn by eight
horses, and the other by twelve. When Lenore had crossed the oat-field
she discovered a number of strange men lounging in the scant shade of a
line of low trees that separated the fields. Here she saw Adams, the
foreman; and he espied her at the same moment. He had been sitting down,
talking to the men. At once he rose to come toward Lenore.

"Is your father with you?" he asked.

"No; he's too slow for me," replied Lenore. "Who are these men?"

"They're strangers looking for jobs."

"I.W.W. men?" queried Lenore, in lower voice.

"Surely must be," he replied. Adams was not a young, not a robust man,
and he seemed to carry a burden of worry. "Your father said he would
come right out."

"I hope he doesn't," said Lenore, bluntly. "Father has a way with him,
you know."

"Yes, I know. And it's the way we're needing here in the Valley,"
replied the foreman, significantly.

"Is that the new harvester-thresher father just bought?" asked Lenore,
pointing to the huge machine, shining and creeping behind the twelve
horses.

"Yes, that's the McCormack and it's a dandy," returned Adams. "With
machines like that we can get along without the I.W.W."

"I want a ride on it," declar