One hot afternoon, he lay under a mower in a sloo where the melted snow had run in spring and the wild grass now grew tall.  It made good hay and the fierce sun had dried it well, so that he had only to cut and haul it home; but something had gone wrong with the machine, and after taking out the broken knife he dismantled the driving gear.  When he crawled out, with a greasy cogwheel in his hand, he was soaked with perspiration and his overalls were stained by oil.  The mosquitoes, that did not as a rule venture out in the strong wind and sun, had bitten him badly while he lay in the grass.

“You had better wait for ten minutes and take a smoke,” said Charnock, who had come up quietly and sat in the shade of the partly-loaded wagon.  “You’ll get on faster when you have cooled down.”

“You believe in waiting, don’t you?” Festing rejoined.

Charnock laughed.  “I feel justified in going slow just now.  Sadie has given me a day off, and when she doesn’t think I ought to work it certainly isn’t necessary.  It saves you some bother if you can leave that sort of thing to your wife.”

“Pshaw!” said Festing.  “You make me tired.”

He picked up the broken knife and looked at Charnock.  Bob was bantering him, exaggerating his slackness.  As a matter of fact, the fellow was not so lazy as he pretended; Sadie was beginning to wake him up.  Stephen did not know if he had forgiven him or not, but they had gradually dropped back into something like their old relations.

“You might take off the broken blades,” he resumed.  “You’ll find new ones in the box.  They ought to be riveted, but if you use the short bolts and file down the nuts, I dare say they’ll run through the guides.”

Then he crawled back under the machine and did not come out until he head a rattle of wheels.  Wilkinson, whom he knew and disliked, stopped his team close by and began to talk to Charnock.  This annoyed Festing, because he was nearly ready to replace the knife.

“I called at your place and found you were out,” Wilkinson remarked.  “They told me where you had gone, and when I saw Festing’s wagon I reckoned you might have gone with him.  You come here pretty often, don’t you?”

“Steve’s patient,” Charnock replied with a twinkle.  “I’m not sure he enjoys my visits, but he puts up with them.”

“Well, I want you to drive over to-morrow evening.  A man you know from Winnipeg is coming to see me about a deal in Brandon building lots.  The thing looks good and ought to turn out a snap.”

“The trouble is I haven’t much money to invest,” Charnock answered, and Festing thought he was hesitating.  It looked as if Wilkinson had not seen him yet, for he was standing behind the machine.

“I understand you have a bigger interest in the farm than you had in the hotel and something might be arranged.  Anyhow, come over and hear what our friend has to say.”

“You’ll be a fool if you go, Bob,” Festing interposed.