f ye
make 'em go as fast as airy express I ever see. Wal! what about your
ortermobile?"

"It's broken down," said Tom, feeling that he had struck the wrong
house, after all, if he expected help.

"I'm 'tarnal glad of it!" snapped the farmer's wife. "Nuthin' could
please me better. Las' time I went to town one o' them plagued nuisances
come hootin' erlong an' made the old mare back us clean inter the
ditch--an' I broke a dozen an' a ha'f of aigs right in the lap of my new
bombazeen dress. Drat 'em all, I say!"

"I am very sorry, Ma'am, that the accident occurred. But I can assure
you I was not the cause of it," Tom said, quietly, and stifling a great
desire to laugh. "I wish only to get your husband to help me with his
team--and I will pay him well."

"Huh! what d'ye call well?" she demanded. "A boy like you ain't likely
to have much money."

Thus brought to a "show down," Tom promptly pulled out his billcase and
opened it in the light that streamed out of the doorway. The woman could
see that he carried quite a bundle of notes--and that they were not all
single dollar bills!

"Land o' Goshen!" she ejaculated. "Where'd you steal all that money, ye
young ruffian? I thought there was suthin' mighty bad about you when I
fust set eyes on ye."

This was a compliment that Tom Cameron had not been looking for! He was
certainly taken aback at the woman's words, and before he could make any
response, she raised her voice and began to shout for "Sam!"

"Crickey!" thought the boy, "I hope Sam will have a better opinion of me
than she does, or I'm likely to get into trouble."

He began to back off the porch, and had his ankle not pained him so, he
certainly would have set off on a run. Perhaps it is well he did not try
this, however, for the woman cried:

"You move a step off'n thet platform before Sam Blodgett comes an' I'll
open the lower ha'f of this door and let the dawg loose on ye!"

Then she bawled for her husband again, and pretty soon a shouted
response came from the direction of the barns. Then a lantern flickered
and swung, and Tom knew the man was coming toward the house.

He appeared--a short, heavy-set man, barefooted, and with a pail of milk
in one hand and the lantern in the other.

"What's the matter, Sairy?" he demanded.

"Who's this?"

"Thet's what _I_ wanter know," snapped the woman. "It 'pears like he's
one o' these runaway boys ye read about in the papers--an' he's stole
some money."

"I h