Dave grinned a little, but he did not ask what had been the trouble, as Bud had half expected him to do.

Apparently Dave felt that he had received all the information he needed, for his next remark had to do with the heat.

The day was a "weather breeder", he declared, and he was glad to have another man to put at the hauling.
An iron triangle beside the kitchen door clamored then, and Bud, looking quickly, saw the slim little woman with the big, troubled eyes striking the iron bar vigorously.

Dave glanced at his watch and led the way to the house, the hay crew hurrying after him.
Fourteen men sat down to a long table with a great shuffling of feet and scraping of benches, and immediately began a voracious attack upon the heaped platters of chicken and dumplings and the bowls of vegetables.
Bud found a place at the end where he could look into the kitchen, and his eyes went that way as often as they dared, following the swift motions of the little woman who poured coffee and filled empty dishes and said never a word to anyone.
He was on the point of believing her a daughter of the house when a square-jawed man of thirty, or thereabout, who sat at Bud's right hand, called her to him as he might have called his dog, by snapping his fingers.
She came and stood beside Bud while the man spoke to her in an arrogant undertone.
"Marian, I told yuh I wanted tea for dinner after this.

D'you bring me coffee on purpose, just to be onery?
I thought I told yuh to straighten up and quit that sulkin'.