"Cahn yo work putty goood?
"Yes, I have always lived on a farm," and Rolf showed his hands,
broad and heavy for his years.
"Cahn yo mebby find my lost cows, which I haf not find, already
yet?"
Could they! it would be fun to try.
"I giff yo two dollars you pring dem putty kvick."
So Quonab took the trail to the woods, and Rolf started into the
potatoes with a hoe, but he was stopped by a sudden outcry of
poultry. Alas! It was Skookum on an ill-judged partridge hunt.
A minute later he was ignominiously chained to a penitential
post, nor left it during the travellers' sojourn.
In the afternoon Quonab returned with the cattle, and as he told
Rolf he saw five deer, there was an unmisakable hunter gleam in
his eye.
Three cows in milk, and which had not been milked for two days,
was a serious matter, needing immediate attention. Rolf had
milked five cows twice a day for five years, and a glance showed
old Van Trumper that the boy was an expert.
"Good, good! I go now make feed swine."
He went into the outhouse, but a tow-topped, redcheeked girl ran
after him. "Father, father, mother says --" and the rest was
lost.
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