ool way to do things!"

The little car came to a stop on the rise of the grade, and Anderson
side-stepped just in time to avoid being bumped into as it started back
again, released.

"It's Deacon Rank's car," explained Mrs. Crow in response to a series of
bewildered, rapid-fire questions from her husband. "He offered to sell
it to me for fifty dollars, and I've been learnin' how to run it for two
whole days--out in Peters' Mill lane."

"How does it happen I never knowed anything about this, Eva?" demanded
he, regaining in some measure his tone of authority.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, by gosh, you have!"

"Deacon Rank's been giving me lessons every afternoon. I know how to
start it and steer it, goin' slow-like--but of course I've got a lot to
learn."

"Well, you just turn that car around an' skedaddle for home, Eva Crow,"
was his command. "What business have you got runnin' around the country
like this in the dead o' night, all alone--"

"Ain't I the Marshal of Tinkletown?" she broke in crossly. "What right
have all you men to be going off without me in this--"

"The only official thing you've done, madam, since you got to be
marshal, was to resign while you was in bed not more'n an hour ago. I
accepted your resignation, so now you go home as quick as that blamed
old rattletrap will take you."

"Besides, I saw the ornery fools go off an' leave you behind, Anderson,
and that made me mad. I run over to Deacon Rank's and got the car. Now,
you hop right in, and I'll take you wherever you want to go. Get in, I
say. I hereby officially withdraw my resignation. I'm still marshal of
this town, and if you don't do as I tell you, I'll discharge you as
deputy."

So Anderson got up beside her and pulled desperately at his
chin-whiskers, no doubt to assist the words that were struggling to
escape from his compressed lips.

After considerable back-firing, the decrepit machine began to climb the
grade. Presently Mr. Crow found his voice.

"Didn't I tell you to turn around, Eva?"

"Don't talk to me when I'm driving," said she, gripping the wheel
tightly with the fingers of death.

"You turn the car around immediately, woman. I'm your husband, an' I
order you to do as I tell ye!"

"I'll turn it around when I get good and ready," said she in a strained
voice. "Can't you see there ain't room enough to turn around in this
road?"

"Well, it don't get any wider."

"Besides, I don't know how to turn it aroun