“Ouch! I got an awful pain in me, Emil. Something’s the matter with my insides, for sure.”
Emil felt his fiery cheek. “You ought to go straight to bed, ‘Medee, and telephone for the doctor; that’s what you ought to do.”
Amedee staggered up with a gesture of despair. “How can I? I got no time to be sick. Three thousand dollars’ worth of new machinery to manage, and the wheat so ripe it will begin to shatter next week. My wheat’s short, but it’s gotta grand full berries. What’s he slowing down for? We haven’t got header boxes enough to feed the thresher, I guess.”
Amedee started hot-foot across the stubble, leaning a little to the right as he ran, and waved to the engineer not to stop the engine.
Emil saw that this was no time to talk about his own affairs. He mounted his mare and rode o
