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"Do you go by the Ericson place?"

"Which Ericson?" The old man drew in his reins as if he expected to stop again.

"Preacher Ericson’s. "

"Oh, the Old Lady Ericson’s!" He turned and looked at Nils. "La, me! If you’re goin’ out there you might ‘a’ rid out in the automobile. That’s a pity, now. The Old Lady Ericson was in town with her auto. You might ‘a’ heard it snortin’ anywhere about the post office er the butcher shop. "

"Has she a motor?" asked the stranger absently.

"’Deed an’ she has! She runs into town every night about this time for her mail and meat for supper. Some folks say she’s afraid her auto won’t get exercise enough, but I say that’s jealousy. "

"Aren’t there any other motors about here?"

"Oh, yes! we have fourteen in all. But nobody else gets around like the Old Lady Ericson. She’s out, rain er shine, over the whole county, chargin’ into town and out amongst her farms, an’ up to her sons’ places. Sure you ain’t goin’ to the wrong place?" He craned his neck and looked at Nils’ flute case with eager curiosity. "The old woman ain’t got any piany that I knows on. Olaf, he has a grand. His wife’s musical; took lessons in Chicago. "

"I’m going up there tomorrow," said Nils imperturbably. He saw that the driver took him for a piano tuner.

"Oh, I see!" The old man screwed up his eyes mysteriously. He was a little dashed by the stranger’s noncommunicativeness, but he soon broke out again.

"I’m one o’ Mis’ Ericson’s tenants. Look after one of her places. I did own the place myself oncet, but I lost it a while back, in the bad years just after the World’s Fair. Just as well, too, I say. Lets you out o’ payin’ taxes. The Ericsons do own most of the county now. I remember the old preacher’s fav’rite text used to be, ‘To them that hath shall be given.’ They’ve spread something wonderful—run over this here country like bindweed. But I ain’t one that begretches it to ’em. Folks is entitled to what they kin git; and they’re hustlers. Olaf, he’s in the Legislature now, and a likely man fur Congress. Listen, if that ain’t the old woman comin’ now. Want I should stop her?"

Nils shook his head. He heard the deep chug-chug of a motor vibrating steadily in the clear twilight behind them. The pale lights of the car swam over the hill, and the old man slapped his reins and turned clear out of the road, ducking his head at the first of three angry snorts from behind. The motor was running at a hot, even speed, and passed without turning an inch from its course. The driver was a stalwart woman who sat at ease in the front seat and drove her car bareheaded. She left a cloud of dust and a trail of gasoline behind her. Her tenant threw back his head and sneezed.

"Whew! I sometimes say I’d as lief be beforeMrs. Ericson as behind her. She does beat all! Nearly seventy, and never lets another soul touch that car. Puts it into commission herself every morning, and keeps it tuned up by the hitch-bar all day. I never stop work for a drink o’ water that I don’t hear her a-churnin’ up the road. I reckon her darter-in-laws never sets down easy nowadays. Never know when she’ll pop in. Mis’ Otto, she says to me: ‘We’re so afraid that thing’ll blow up and do Ma some injury yet, she’s so turrible venturesome.’ Says I: ‘I wouldn’t stew, Mis’ Otto; the old lady’ll drive that car to the funeral of every darter-in-law she’s got.’ That was after the old woman had jumped a turrible bad culvert. "