"No," retorted Edgar. "Your attention was confined to the improvement
the rain would make in Sylvia Marston's affairs. You're looking
forward to sending her a big check after harvest."

"So far, it has looked more like facing a big deficit."

"You mean your facing it."

George frowned.

"Sylvia has nothing except this land."

"It strikes me she's pretty fortunate, in one way. You find the
working capital and bear the loss, if there is one. I wonder what
arrangements you made about dividing a surplus."

"That," said George, "is a thing I've no intention of discussing with
anybody but my co-trustee."

Edgar smiled; he had hardly expected to elicit much information upon
the point, having failed to do so once or twice already.

"Well," he said, "I believe we'll see the rain before an hour has
passed."

Soon after he had spoken, a flash leaped from overhead and the prairie
was flooded with dazzling radiance. It was followed by a roll of
thunder, and a roar as the rain came down. For a few moments the dust
whirled up and there was a strong smell of earth; then the air was
filled with falling water. George stood still in the deluge,