Implements and wagons which had suffered from exposure to the weather,
stood about outside. Edgar noticed that George's face was grave.

"I am afraid we have our work cut out," he said. "We'll put up the
team, and then look round the place and see what needs doing first."




CHAPTER VI

GEORGE GETS TO WORK

It was an oppressive evening, after a day of unusual heat. Edgar sat
smoking outside the homestead. He had been busy since six o'clock that
morning, and he felt tired and downcast. Massed thunder-clouds brooded
over the silent prairie, wheat and grass had faded to dingy green and
lifeless gray, and Edgar tried to persuade himself that his moodiness
was the effect of the weather. This was partly the case, but he was
also suffering from homesickness and a shrinking from what was new and
strange.

The wooden house had a dreary, dilapidated look; the weathered,
neglected appearance of barns and stables was depressing. It was
through a neighboring gap in the fence that Marston's team had brought
their lifeless master home; and Edgar had seen enough to realize that
the man must have grown slack and nerveless before he had succumbed.
The farm had broken down Marston's strength and courage, and now
another man, less gifted in many ways, had taken it in charge. Edgar
wondered how he would succeed; but in spite of a few misgivings he had