"Yes, sir."

"What is it?"

"Chopping down well-holes that have been turned inside out by a
cyclone."

The man in the highway flashed a wonderful smile at the farmer and
passed on. The farmer blinked and then he scowled more savagely. He
climbed the fence and followed, carrying his hoe.

"Look here, you! There ain't no such business."

"Send for me next time you have a well turned wrong side out and I'll
prove it."

"You're a tramp."

Farr sauntered on.

"You're a tramp, and here's what we are doing to tramps in this county
right now!"

Beyond them in the highway men were delving with shovels and hacking
with mattocks. The men wore blue drilling overalls, obtrusively new, and
their faces were pasty pale.

"We have taken 'em out of jail and put 'em doing honest work," said the
farmer. He pointed to guards who were marching to and fro with rifles