DAN had not returned when Barrett woke before sunrise next morning. It was not to be expected, Barrett considered, until Dan's money was gone; nothing for him to worry about, much as he liked the young chap and wished him better companions. Dan would resent it if he should go for him and fetch him back to the hay-making. Let him alone and he would return shame-faced and repentant in a day or two.
Barrett raked into windrows the hay cut the day before, and then spent considerable time working out which end of the hayrack was the bow. He got it straight after several experiments in fitting it to the wagon, and put on what he considered a tremendous load of hay, with the intention of driving it over to Nearing's barn after dinner.
It wasn't so much of a load, but it was fresh and fragrant, a fit offering on the altar of gratitude, Barrett believed, such as was due for the favors shown and the help extended in this venture. Nearing should have, by all courtesy and right, the first fruits of their labor there.
He drove this imposing load of hay around to the front of the cabin, and left it standing in the fairway of the harbor, as he thought of the grass-grown road letting through the gate into the highway. He was returning from feeding the team to prepare his own
