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“Oh”—Further probing on Mother’s part to find out what Aunt Grenertsen’s share of the harvest had amounted to, drew forth the truth, uttered with a show of enthusiasm., He was just sick and tired of seeing those apples in that good-for-nothing garden. Good-for-nothing it certainly was, and very, very old. There was only one apple tree besides the one Johnny was so interested in, but its fruit could scarcely be called apples at all. He would call them croquet balls—such hard green things as they were—hard as rocks. Of course if any of them were on the ground, he bit into them. In fact, he had eaten a good many of them first and last, but they were horrid things, anyway., About all he could gather was from their actions. Jerry seemed to be instructing the Mexican and emphasizing that certain things must be done. Miguel at times grew excited and waved his hands frantically as a torrent of words came from his lips. Finally, just as Bob was sure his cramped muscles would force him to move his position, thereby giving away his presence, they seemed to come to an agreement..