stretch. Weak as you are,--and as hot as you are,--you'd get cramps
in less'n a minute."

"I happen to be a good swimmer."

"So was Bart Edgecomb,--best swimmer I ever saw. He could swim
back an' forth across this river half a dozen times,--and do you
know what happened to him last September? He drowned in three foot
of water up above the bend, that's what he did. Come on. Let's be
movin'. It'll be hotter'n blazes by eleven o'clock, and you oughtn't
to be walkin' in the sun."

The young man settled himself a little more comfortably against
the tree.

"I think I'll stay here in the shade for a while longer. Don't be
uneasy. I shan't go popping into the water the minute your back's
turned. What was it you said early this morning about sniffing rain
in the air?"

"Thunderstorms today, sure as my name's Brown. Been threatening
rain for nearly a week. Got to come some time, and I figure today's--"

"Threats are all we get," growled the young man peevishly. "Lord,
I never dreamed I could get so sick of white skies and what you call
fresh air. You farmers go to bed every night praying for rain, and
you get up in the morning still praying, and what's the result?
Nothing except a whiter sky than the day before, and a greater
shortage of fresh air. Don't talk to me about country air and
country sunshine and country quiet. My God, it never was so hot