"In half an hour there'll be rain, or I'm mistaken. Old Job Hagar is
right after all."

The farmer proved a true prophet. In half an hour, while they were at
the supper table, the rain began to come down in large drops--forming
pools in the hollows of the ground, and drenching all exposed objects
with the largesse of the heavens.

"Where war you a-goin' to-night?" asked the farmer.

"I don't know, sir."

"I was thinkin' that I'd give you a night's lodgin' in place of the
fifteen cents I agreed to pay you. Money's very skeerce with me, and
will be till I've sold off some of the crops."

"I shall be glad to make that arrangement," said Carl, who had been
considering how much the farmer would ask for lodging, for there seemed
small chance of continuing his journey. Fifteen cents was a lower price
than he had calculated on.

"That's a sensible idea!" said the farmer, rubbing his hands with
satisfaction at the thought that he had secured valuable help at no
money outlay whatever.

The next morning Carl continued his tramp, refusing the offer of
continued employment on the same terms. He was bent on pursuing his
journey, though he did not know exactly where he would fetch up in the
end.