Chester had hoped that he might pick up a few cents , holding a horse or cow for somebody or carrying a market basket , but no such chance offered itself . He climbed up on some bales of pressed hay in one corner and sat there moodily ; there was dejection in the very dangle of his legs over the bales . Chester , you see , was discovering what many a boy before him has discovered -- that it is a good deal easier to sit down and make a fortune in dreams than it is to go out into the world and make it . Two men were talking to each other near him . At first Chester gave no heed to their conversation , but presently a sentence made him prick up his ears . `` Yes , there 's a pretty fair crop out at Hopedale , '' one man was saying , `` but whether it 's going to be got in in good shape is another matter . It 's terrible hard to get any help . Every spare man-jack far and wide has gone West on them everlasting harvest excursions . Salome Whitney at the Mount Hope Farm is in a predicament . She 's got a hired man , but he ca n't harvest grain all by himself . She spent the whole of yesterday driving around , trying to get a couple of men or boys to help him , but I dunno if she got anyone or not . '' The men moved out of earshot at this juncture , but Chester got down from the bales with a determined look . If workers were wanted in Hopedale , that was the place for him . He had done a man 's work at harvest time in Upton the year before . Lige Barton had said so himself . Hope and courage returned with a rush . He accosted the first man he met and asked if he could tell him the way to Hopedale . `` Reckon I can , sonny . I live in the next district . Want to go there ?
If you wait till evening , I can give you a lift part XXXXX the way .
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