PATRICK O'HARA AND SI BOOTH 325 



had done on the first and left my yard in perfect 

 order. He came in just before he crossed the field 

 to my neighbour's shack. 



" Shall you pay me my wages, miss ? " 



" Less a fortnight for your dishonesty in leaving 

 me at this time. If you still think you are entitled 

 to the full amount you must sue me." 



" I shall not do that, miss, I'm no believer in the 

 law." 



" I can quite believe it." 



"I've worked well for you." 



" You have played the meanest trick that a 

 workman can possibly play, and — not that I con- 

 sider it makes the matter better or worse — you have 

 played it on a woman." 



So on September 4 I was in the midst of a 

 hundred acres of grain, which the frost might attack 

 any night, and I had hay to cut and carry, and six 

 acres of my field still to plough. 



Si Booth returned with his team that afternoon 

 to disc and harrow the acres he had broken. He 

 was a man of few words. " That's the meanest 

 trick I've known any man play in this country," he 

 said. " He's been after Roland Dennison to hire 

 on ever since the day of the fair. It's too bad." 



However, I was too busy to worry. I wasted no 

 time in words, but mowed and raked and got right 

 down to the ploughing, which was none the easier 

 because I knew that my ex-professor and hired man 

 was watching me finish my bits and pieces which 

 were very near the windows of his new abode ; and 

 even now I do not finish the bits and pieces in good 

 style, but I never leave an inch unturned. I 

 finished late on Saturday night, the sun had gone 



